Reaper's Origin
by prometheus55
Summary: After the battle with the Collectors, the Normandy tries to return to the Terminus systems. Unfortunately things don't go as planned and now the remnants of the crew must find a way home. However intentions and outcomes are rarely similar for Shepard. -ON HIATUS.
1. Author's Foreward

_Author's Foreword:_

Well I just got finished playing through Mass Effect 2 for the first time. I've wanted to write a fanfic for a while now and though I've already come up with a few ideas, I really wanted to use the Mass Effect universe.

That said I'm a big fan of crossovers as well. So I've decided to use both Mass Effect and Stargate. Personally I think they fit well together and I'd like your opinion as well.

This story is set just after the end of Mass Effect 2 and around the end of season seven of SG1, just before Anubis attacks Earth.

Just to cover my ass here, I don't own anything in any of the universes I might be mentioning/using in this story. They all have big corporations behind them and I really don't want to be sued. Not worth the trouble anyway.

So without further ado…


	2. Chapter One Damn It Joker

**Chapter One – Damn It Joker, This Is Not Omega**

_Galactic Core_

_June 12, 2189_

_SSV Normandy SR2_

"There are those who said that our mission was little more than suicide. That no one would remember our sacrifices, our pain, our loss…," Commander Jade Shepard said as she looked out at the assembled members of her crew, "For some of us that was true. These people, regardless of race, regardless of gender, regardless of background or creed came together. Not for any organization, not because of orders or money or pride. They came together for a higher cause, to ensure that future generations would have a chance to write their own stories."

Surrounding her, the survivors of the Normandy solemnly looked on, torpedo casings arranged before them; flag draped coffins. Most were empty; their bodies irrecoverable after what the Collectors had done to them. Still it was important to have something to say goodbye to. The dead after all couldn't want for anything. This moment was for the living.

"We hereby commit these people to the deep and thank them for their sacrifice. God speed in whatever realm you now walk."

Behind the assembled group, the casings began loading into the launchers. One by one they launched from the _Normandy's_ forward torpedo tubes, the crew watching the procession from the cockpit. More than forty coffins began to slowly make their way towards the super dense black hole in the center of the galaxy, the imposing form of the Collector's former base, now lifeless, casting a pall over the scene.

"Good speech Commander," commented Joker from beside her after the assembled crowd had dispersed.

"I thought so. I knew what this mission was likely to entail. Still…"

"You did the best you could. They knew what they were getting into when they signed up. We did everything we could to ensure a successful outcome."

"I don't think it'll ever feel like enough. Miranda, Samara, Legion, Zaeed, Kelly, the rest of the crew. They put their faith in me and I let them down."

"Don't go there Shepard," said Joker, cutting Shepard off. She'd been like this when they'd first come aboard, after the loss of the original _Normandy_.

"I agree with Jeff. You took all the actions you could to ensure the success of our mission," added EDI from her place at the side of the bridge. "You spent more time, more effort and more money preparing us for this mission than even the Illusive Man predicted by a significant margin."

"There was nothing more you could've done. If they'd been here, they'd have agreed with us Commander."

"Thanks guys. Well at least this wasn't the suicide mission everyone thought it would be. Hate to think they spent all that money bringing me back for such a short time."

"That's the spirit," grinned Joker as he began inputting commands into the helm. "So, ready to get back to civilization?"

"Sure, but Omega will do just fine in the meantime."

"You got it."

The massive form of the Omega relay began filling the windows, the odd reddish lights giving the massive structure a dark, foreboding feeling. As the _Normandy_ approached, red lightning-like energy discharges began arcing out, striking the damaged hull. The ship aligned itself along the length of the relay and with a streak of white light shot towards the rest of the galaxy, a new mission waiting.

* * *

_Stargate Command_

_January 23, 2004_

"Bra'tac what's wrong," asked a concerned Doctor Daniel Jackson. It wasn't like the old Jaffa to be so taciturn.

"I'm afraid I am not the bearer of good news," replied the man after a moment. "We've had word from Jaffa loyal to our cause. Anubis is gathering the full force of his fleet. He will be here within three days."

This news came as a shock to all involved and it couldn't have come at a worse time. With the recent election of President Henry Hayes and Vice President Richard Kinsey, the political maneuvering was at an all time high, culminating with the replacement, or 'promotion' as the powers that be liked to spin it, of General Hammond.

Of course Kinsey tried to spin the warning as a hoax, the constant pain in the ass of Stargate Command doing his level best to derail any real response. With Colonel O'Neill living on borrowed time, having once again gotten the complete database of the Ancients downloaded into his brain, it seemed as if the SGC couldn't get a break.

The only hope it seemed was that same Colonel and SG1, as usual. They and Bra'tac had taken a Tel'tak with the hopes of recovering a weapon of the Ancients to defeat Anubis.

So now the world could only hope that once again a miracle would save the day.

Sometimes fate can come up with some pretty strange twists.

* * *

"Uhhhh…," moaned Shepard as she pulled herself off the deck. "EDI, what the hell was that?"

"We seemed to have experienced some sort of malfunction within the relay. We are not where we're supposed to be."

"No shit," muttered Joker who fortunately didn't seem to have been thrown out of his chair.

"So where are we," asked Shepard, shooting a slight glare at the floating holographic blue ball that represented their AI.

"We appear to be in the Sol system, near the orbit of Pluto."

"WHAT? How the hell did we get here?" asked Joker, frantically poking at his controls.

"Unknown. However it seems likely that the Omega relay was different from the others and has the ability to selectively choose where it directs its users."

"I suppose that makes sense Commander. If it only connected to the Sahrabarik system, someone probably would've noticed the Collector ships coming and going whenever they came out to target the colonies," reasoned Joker with a shrug. "But I think we have bigger problems."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not picking up anything on the comm. No signals, no extranet connections, no comm buoys. Nothing. It's like the whole system has gone quiet."

"EDI, can you confirm that?"

"Jeff is mostly correct. I am in fact picking up a single subspace comm signal coming from the vicinity of Earth. It appears to be some sort of navigational beacon. Otherwise I am picking up nothing. One other point. The quantum entanglement communicator used to contact the Illusive Man is unable to contact its partner device. Theoretically this should not be able to occur."

"Uh Commander, you'd better take a look out the window," stuttered Joker, pointing at the small planetoid that dominated their view.

"What is that?" asked Tali as she entered the bridge, Garrus and Jacob hot on her heels.

"I don't believe it," said Jacob with a touch of awe in his voice. "That's Charon the moon, where we found the relay in 2156."

"According to scans, the relay does indeed exist within the planetoid," commented EDI as she directed the sensors, powerful RADAR and LIDAR beams probing the mass of ice. "However it appears to be inactive. Energy emissions are nearly non-existent."

"So what, have we gone back in time?" snarked Joker, receiving a mild glare from Shepard as she studied the reading on a nearby console.

"I don't know. Regardless, we need to find out what the hell is going on," replied the Commander, "and the first step is to head for Earth. Joker, do we have enough fuel to make an intra-system FTL jump?"

"Sure, fuel tanks read as almost completely full."

"Good prepare for the jump. Shepard to Doctor Chakwas. What's the status of the crew?"

"_What is left of the crew you mean Commander,"_ came the voice of the doctor over the comm. _"Only a few cuts and bruises. Jack took a nasty hit during the event and has a minor concussion but I've repaired the damage."_

"Good, Shepard out. Well whenever you're ready Joker."

"Right, beginning countdown. Ten seconds to jump. We'll be coming out just beyond the moon."

When the countdown reached zero, the _Normandy_ seemed to streak away, a trail of reddish light following in its wake. Only a few seconds later the ship decelerated, the large grayish moon filling the windows. Her arrival was not unobserved however.

And actions were taken.

* * *

_Area 51 Docks_

_January 23, 2004_

_USS Prometheus BC-303_

"Sir, you'd better take a look at this," commented Captain Womack from her position at the tactical console.

George Hammond looked up from his position at the back of the bridge. "What is it captain?"

"Our sensors just picked up a vessel behind the moon. No signs of a hyperspace window though," she replied with a look of confusion.

"Could it have been cloaked?"

"I don't think so. A vessel decloaking makes a very recognizable energy wave. This was nothing like that."

"Contact the Pentagon and let them know what's happening."

Five minutes later it had been confirmed by Vandenberg Air Force Base's own subspace sensor array. Concerned about preliminary reconnaissance, the _Prometheus_ was given the go ahead for launch. The massive doors that concealed the small warship from view cracked open, some of the covering sand raining down on her grey trinium alloy hull. With a deep throbbing hum, Earth's first interstellar battlecruiser nosed its way out of its hole and into the sky, quickly gaining altitude and achieving orbit.

"Sensors, do you have the contact?"

"Only on the subspace array sir. I've getting no heat readings at all and its hull appears to be made up of various RADAR and LIDAR absorbent materials. I've also reading significant amounts of ECM. Whoever they are, they don't want to be seen."

"Any matches to Goa'uld designs?"

"No sir. I've never seen anything like it."

"Very well. They've probably already seen our launch. Set an intercept course," ordered the general, worries playing in the back of his mind. The last thing they needed was a battle now.

* * *

"We've arrived in orbit of the moon," reported Joker.

"Good. EDI, what are you picking up?" asked Shepard with a note of worry coloring her voice.

"It would seem that Jeff's earlier joke was in fact quite accurate. I have been able to intercept many signals coming from the planet's surface. Many appear to be television and radio broadcasts. Analysis of the intercepted data indicates the current date as January 23, 2004."

"Then what about the subspace beacon. They didn't have that technology back then."

"As we are now closer, I've been able to make out several subspace field sources that from a distance appeared to be one. I am reading several communications satellites as well as several terrestrial relays giving off a subspace signal. Some of the signals appear to be for communications. Others appear to be used as some sort of sensor system. It is possible that even with our stealth systems engaged, that we have been seen."

"Uh, I can confirm that Commander," replied Tali from the tactical console in a worried tone. "I'm picking up a frigate sized vessel exiting the atmosphere."

"Could it be one of the old space shuttles?"

"Not unless your species armed its shuttles with nuclear missiles and railguns," commented Garrus, examining the data over Tali's shoulder. "They appear to be on an intercept course."

"Raise shields," ordered Shepard. _Normandy_ wasn't exactly in perfect condition at the moment, not with those breaches in the armor, "but keep weapons offline. The last thing we need it to provoke whoever this is. Any ideas on that?"

"I believe that this vessel may belong to the United States Air Force, judging by its IFF telemetry," replied EDI. "I can also confirm Mr. Vakarian's observations. The vessel is armed with thirty six low caliber gatling railguns and twelve dorsal and four aft missile tubes. I am also reading a powerful energy barrier around the vessel, similar to our own barriers but different in configuration."

"The vessel is in visual range," added Joker, "bringing up an image."

A holographic rendering from of the blocky grey _Prometheus_ materialized before the crew. It was obviously a warship, basic and utilitarian. Small notations indicated where various systems such as weapons and sensors were located.

"We are being hailed," announced EDI in her usual near-monotone. "Do you with to respond?"

"Well we are in their space. Let's hear it."

A voice filled the small room, _"Repeat. This is General George Hammond of the USS Prometheus to unidentified vessel. You have entered restricted space. Please respond."_

"Well it's up to you commander. I can confirm that they're targeting us," replied Joker, "and between you and me, getting shot at one a day is enough for me."

"You're right there Joker. Open a channel," replied Shepard, not looking forward to getting shot at again. "This is Commander Jade Shepard of the _SSV Normandy_ to _USS Prometheus_. We mean you no harm. Please respond."

It took a moment for the two systems to sync up before communications could be established two-way.

"_This is Hammond. Did you say Normandy?"_

"Yes sir. We are from Earth, but maybe not this Earth," replied Shepard, not really knowing what else to say.

There was a long pause and everyone seemed to be holding their breath, _"Understood commander. Believe it or not this is not our first experience with people from, well let's just say, from not around here. However I suggest you find somewhere to bunker down. We're expecting an attack on Earth any day now."_

That brought Shepard up short. How could Earth of this period, even in an alternate reality, as this appeared to be, have made enemies so quickly? More importantly, how could one lightly armed warship defend the planet?

"With all due respect general, I have no intensions of hiding while Earth, any Earth is attacked."

"_Very well. I suppose I can't convince you otherwise. You vessel appears damaged however. Can you fight?"_

"Well we could use some repairs," commented Joker quietly, too quiet to be picked up by the comm system.

"That'd be appreciated general."

"_Then follow us back to Earth. We can slip you in one of the shipyards I think. You can land right?"_

"Yes we can general. We'll follow you in. _Normandy_ out."

"Are you sure about this Shepard," asked Garrus after the channel had closed. "We don't know anything about these people and as I've learned over the years, humans can be as unpredictable as any other species. Perhaps more so."

"Do we have any other choice? I won't let Earth be destroyed, not if I can help it. And we need repairs. Even what this period can provide would be useful. We can't excavate the relay before this attack, we don't have much in the way of fuel capacity and I doubt we'll find a depot anywhere around here. So what else can we do but make nice with the locals?"

"I hope you're right," replied Tali. "For all our sakes."

* * *

The _Prometheus_ returned to its dock only a half-hour after it had left, preparations for the fight having been interrupted by the appearance of the _Normandy_. The ship in question followed behind, vectoring towards one of the four completed slips that had been allocated for the construction of the _USS Nemesis_.

All around the facility, personnel stopped what they were doing as the delta-hulled ship began its final preparations for landing, the large engines retracting into the position they'd normally be in when engaging a mass relay. The glow from the thrusters winked out, the mass effect field being the only thing keeping the two hundred eight-five meter warship in the air. Slowly the damaged vessel descended into the hole in the ground, more than able to fit into the dock designed to build the much larger BC-304 class battlecruiser. Along its bottom, landing struts began deploying, locking into place only moments before the vessel touched down. With a final loud hum, the _Normandy_ went silent, the various systems powering down.

Having already landed only one slip over, General Hammond had more than ample opportunity to make his way to the allocated bay before the _Normandy_ set down. Seeing the ship with his own eyes, the old commander couldn't help but be impressed. The vessel was shaped much like a large fighter jet, even having twin vertical stabilizers on the back. White, black and orange paint covered the hull, various windows glowing with internal light. Her name was proudly written on her along with her serial number and some sort of symbol; an odd elongated hexagon surrounded by two 'L' shaped wings in orange and black.

As he looked over her gleaming hull, the damage could clearly be made out, the underlying superstructure exposed in places, armor blackened and twisted. Making his way down to ground level, the general's attention shifted towards a large section of the ship where a ramp was lowering its way to the ground, apparently the ship's shuttle bay, itself breached in three places, including once in the ramp itself.

The people than came out startled the general. In his time as the leader of the SGC, they'd not had much contact with truly 'alien' races. Oh sure there was the Asgard, the Nox, the Unas and the Serrakins, but by and large the galaxy was populated by humans. There were ten people coming down the ramp, of whom only five were human, three women and two men. Of the others, one looked distinctly reptilian, another mammalian, one almost aquatic and another that George couldn't quite classify but definitely didn't want to get into a fight with. The final one looked distinctly female but he couldn't be sure because she was wearing some sort of environmental suit.

Another thing the general noticed was that with only two exceptions they were all armed. Stepping up to the woman wearing a red, blue and black camouflaged set of futuristic armor and carrying enough firepower to take the entire facility by herself, Hammond began a time honored routine. "Welcome to Area 51 Commander Shepard."

"Thank you General Hammond. May I present my crew; Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau, our pilot, Doctor Carolyn Chakwas, our CMO and my team of, um, specialists, Garrus Vakarian, Urdnot Grunt, Jack, Jacob Taylor, Mordin Solus, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy and Thane Krios."

"A pleasure. I must say, you have one of the most diverse crews we've ever encountered."

"Well when you're on a mission that most people describe as being suicidal, like ten times in the same conversation, you recruit the best. Oh I should also introduce EDI."

The general was taken aback when a holographic image appeared around Shepard's arm, a small bluish ball appearing a few inches above it. "Greetings, I am EDI, the _Normandy's_ artificial intelligence."

"Uh, hello," Hammond certainly didn't know what to make of this latest revelation. "You are on the ship?"

"I am the ship General Hammond. I manage most of the _Normandy's_ onboard systems and with few exceptions I can operate the ship without the need for a crew."

"Unfortunately we had to put her to work after most of my crew was abducted," replied Shepard bitterly.

"Did you retrieve them?" asked Hammond with a tone of sympathy. He certainly knew what losing people to events beyond his control felt like.

"For the most part, there wasn't much left to retrieve. Doctor Chakwas was the only survivor."

"My condolences," replied Hammond, an awkward pause settling over the assembled group before continuing, "Um, if you'll follow me…"

"Of course. Joker, EDI; work with their yard dogs. Give them whatever information they need."

"You got it commander," replied Joker, limping towards the obvious chief technician and his subordinates nearby.

"Understood commander," replied EDI before disappearing from Shepard's Omni-tool.

"Lead on general."

The group made their way towards the nearest conference room, the unknown aliens drawing a fair amount of curious stares. Eventually arriving at their destination, the assembled group took their seats, looking around curiously.

"So general, what can you tell me about this enemy?"

"Yesterday, we received a message warning of the impending attack. It is led by a being that calls himself Anubis, a former member of a race known as the Goa'uld. We've been at war with them since we first made contact with another member of their race calling himself Ra in 1994. We believe that he has several dozen vessels primed to attack within the next few days."

"Aren't those Egyptian gods?" asked Jacob with a look of concern.

"Yes. Approximately eight millennia ago their species came to Earth and enslaved our ancestors, posing as gods from several religions. Eventually they were forced off the planet but not before they'd abducted thousands. Some became their genetically engineered foot soldiers, the Jaffa. Some were transplanted to other worlds throughout the galaxy and used as slave labor in their factories and mines. The unlucky ones became hosts to the Goa'uld themselves."

"So the Goa'uld are parasites," concluded Mordin in his typical rapid, clipped speech.

"Yes. They forcefully take people as hosts against their will. The unlucky bastards are essentially trapped within their own bodies, able to see and hear everything but unable to do anything to impact the symbiote's actions. The Goa'uld are extremely brutal. Genocide, torture, medical experimentation, mass executions; the host quickly goes mad from a combination of the horrors they witness and exposure to the sarcophagus, an anti-aging device the Goa'uld use which negatively impacts a person's personality."

"And now they want to attack Earth," said Jake with a sneer. "Fucking bastards."

"General, we need more than a description of their race to successfully fight them. With your permission I'd like EDI to interface with your network and begin an analysis of the information you have on their technology," said Shepard.

"Ordinarily I'd say no. But these are hardly ordinary circumstances. Very well commander."

Shepard activated her Omni-tool and connected to the _Normandy's_ wireless network. "EDI, access their database and download anything they have on a race called the Goa'uld."

"Working. Download complete. Analysis started," replied the image of the AI. After a few moments she continued, "Analysis complete. The Goa'uld appear to use a form of plasma pulse weaponry. Though unusual, at least by the standards of our universe, this weaponry possesses enough kinetic energy for our barriers to be effective. There is however insufficient data to determine how well our weaponry will work against their energy shielding."

"So we can take a few hits from them," began Garrus.

"But we don't know if we can hit them back," finished Shepard. "Then again, if the _Prometheus_ could successfully engage one of their vessels, I think we stand a chance."

"Commander, may I ask what your vessel is armed with," said Hammond.

"The _Normandy_ is an advanced prototype. Over the past month or so we've upgraded her significantly. She's got a standard GARDIAN point defense laser system, four heavy particle beam cannons, twin Thanix cannons adapted from alien technology, a single spinal mass driver and three torpedo launchers. We've got disruptor torpedoes for breaking down barriers, plasma torpedoes for anti-shipping work and five dozen twenty-five megaton nuclear torpedoes for when you've got to make a really big statement."

"Well that's certainly impressive," said the general, trying to suppress the look of awe on his face. If _Prometheus_ was even half as well armed, the Goa'uld would be in a hell of a lot more trouble than they already were.

"General," began Shepard, "I don't really see how you can hope to defeat that many enemies, even with the _Normandy_."

"We don't. We're hoping one of our off-world teams will be successful in retrieving an alien weapon that will be able to defeat the Goa'uld. If they can't…," replied Hammond, shrugging his shoulders.

"Right. Well we've been asked to go up against hideous odds before. What's once more," Jade grinned, the looks on her companions faces showing their complete faith in her. They'd followed her into the galactic core, into the Collector's home. Compared to that, an attack on Earth was nothing.


	3. Chapter Two First Engagement

**Chapter Two – First Engagement**

_Area 51 Shipyards, Slip Four_

_January 25, 2004_

_SSV Normandy_

As she entered the conference room, Shepard couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic for her old ship. While it was true that the this Normandy was considerably more comfortable than was standard in the Alliance military, what with the fully equipped galley and the fish tanks in her quarters, the lack of chairs made meetings a more unpleasant affair then they used to be.

"Ok, let's get this started," began Jade after everyone had finished milling around. "Firstly, EDI how's the ship?"

"The personnel here are surprisingly well trained and effective commander. Though many of the materials needed to fully repair the Normandy are not available at the moment, we have been able to repair much of the damage. The hull breaches both in the shuttle bay and the forward dorsal section have been repaired though the due to the lack of availability, the armor in the section had to be replaced with local materials."

"So we have a weakness in that area?" concluded Garrus with a frown.

"Indeed, however because the Goa'uld only use plasma weaponry and because our barriers are effective against that kind of weaponry, it is less of a problem than normal. Otherwise the ship is fully combat effective. We have a full load of torpedoes and all weapon systems are operational and undamaged."

"I still think this battle is suicide," commented Jacob. "We'll be outnumbered fifteen to one and the Prometheus isn't exactly the most capable warship I've ever seen."

"Look, we don't need to beat these Goa'uld. We just have to delay them long enough for them to get the weapons that General Hammond's people are retrieving operational. Then we watch the fireworks."

"To that end, I believe I can be of assistance," said EDI, drawing everyone's attention. "After studying all available data on Goa'uld systems, I am confident that they are susceptible to a cyber-warfare attack and will be unable to adapt during a battle to such a tactic."

"That's an idea. I mean that was what you were created for wasn't it EDI," asked Joker with a grin.

"That is correct Jeff. I also believe we can disrupt their sensors and communications with our electronic warfare systems as well. This should significantly weaken their response and disrupt their coordination."

This plan was starting to sound better and better to the commander. So of course it was time for fate to throw a monkey wrench into the mix.

"Commander, we are receiving a signal from the Prometheus."

"Put it up EDI," replied Shepard. Moments later EDI's avatar was replaced by a two dimensional image of General Hammond. "General, what's going on?"

"We've just detected a Ha'tak and a pair of Al'kesh bombers entering the system. Most likely they're a scouting force."

"Understood, when are you launching?"

"We're not. We don't want to tip our hand and show that all we've got is the Prometheus."

"Well you've got us too. EDI, can we take off and intercept those ships under stealth?"

"I believe so. However the subspace sensors that are in use here may reveal our presence before we are in position."

"Commander, I have an idea," interjected Captain Womack from her position aboard the Prometheus. "The Goa'uld don't have anywhere near the sensor technology we have. Ours is based off Asgard systems while the Goa'uld use an inferior technology. When you arrived we were able to detect your FTL drive and as we got closer we were able to break through your stealth…"

"But the Goa'uld can't do that," concluded Shepard with a grin.

"I believe so. It might be possible to sneak up on them."

"Well that's an idea at least," said Hammond with a frown, "but then what? If they stop reporting to Anubis he'll just show up and attack."

"Not if he thinks there's a fleet protecting Earth," grinned Shepard. "All we have to do is get aboard and take the bridge…"

"Then send a false signal," continued Hammond with a look of understanding. "I'll be a dangerous mission. I'd like to send some people with you."

"Very well, have them report to the Normandy ASAP. We'll take off in a few minutes. Normandy out."

"So we're teaming up with the locals," commented Grunt with a feral grin.

"Try not to tear them apart Grunt," replied Shepard, almost matching his smile. "I have to go meet our guests."

* * *

As they approached the Normandy, SG3 couldn't help but feel a little out of their depth. One of the oldest combat teams in the SGC, General Hammond had requisitioned them after he'd been given command of the Prometheus. This was fine as far as Colonel Albert Reynolds was concerned. Personally he couldn't stand the political lynching and back-stabbing the SGC had turned into in the past few days. The appointment of Dr. Weir had been little more than a power play by that traitorous ass hole Kinsey and they all knew it. Hell even she probably knew it.

So now here he and his team stood, waiting for the familiar yet slightly alien shape of the Normandy to admit them. They didn't have to wait long.

The airlock slid open, reveling a single woman wearing some sort of advanced armor and literally loaded down with guns, some of which even appeared to be organic in nature.

"You the people General Hammond sent," she stated simply.

"Ah yes ma'am. Colonel Albert Reynolds, commanding officer of SG3."

"Well then welcome aboard. I'm Commander Jade Shepard, the Normandy's CO. For the duration of this mission, you're under my command."

"Understood. You point, we'll shoot."

"Good. I think we'll get along just fine," replied Shepard with a grin. "Well if you're all ready to go…"

"Right, everyone aboard."

The three men and one woman picked up their packs and filed onto the Normandy, already assessing their surroundings while following the commander. By and large what he saw reminded Reynolds of a sci-fi movie. Chrome was definitely popular and there were holograms everywhere.

The commander led them into a larger area of the room where a large holographic model of the Normandy floated, various sections highlighted in blue showing the internal systems including several very large cannons. Waiting for them was one of the strangest groups of individuals that SG3 had ever seen.

"Colonel, I'd like to introduce you to my crew," began Shepard, one by one pointing to her companions. Turning to one of the console and taping a few keys, the commander began speaking. "Joker, whenever you're ready."

"Got it commander," replied the pilot, preferring to shout towards the CIC instead of using the comm.

Outside the large doors above the Normandy began to retract. Just as the Prometheus had done a few days before, the Normandy quickly exited the shipyard and boosted into orbit. However unlike the Prometheus, the small warship was almost invisible to sensors, only the powerful arrays on the Prometheus, several orbiting satellites and at Vandenberg AFB tracking her progress.

"Commander, we've made orbit," commented Joker, Shepard having come to the cockpit during the ascent. SG3 meanwhile was getting a quick and dirty tutorial on how to use the considerably more advanced weaponry in the armory and like the good marines they were, trying desperately to keep their overwhelming enthusiasm over the insanely powerful weapons to manageable levels. Especially when they were shown the M920 Cain micro-nuke launcher.

"Good, have we got the enemy ships on passive sensors?"

"Yes commander," replied EDI from beside them. "They are in orbit of the moon. Energy readings indicate that they are scanning the satellite system."

"Very well, set a course to take us alongside the big one. I'm assuming their shields aren't up?"

"You are correct commander. However we may be spotted on approach by the smaller vessels. Request permission to launch several decoy drones to lead them away."

"Permission granted EDI," replied Jade with a grin. Having an AI around was very useful.

The forward torpedo launchers opened and two small probes nosed their way out. Like the Normandy herself, the Q/D-855 Screamer decoy drones were equipped with both a small Tantalus drive core and state of the art stealth systems. As their name implied, the small spacecraft were designed to glide to their designation under full stealth and then start screaming on all comm frequencies. Combined with a sophisticated electronic warfare suite and a relatively smart VI, the drones were often effective at fooling enemies into believing that they were Alliance cruisers, at least until the enemy vessels got closer. For this mission, EDI had programmed them simulate the readings Prometheus gave off and to begin retreating away as the Al'kesh got closer, buying the Normandy time to complete her mission.

Then the fun would begin.

* * *

_In Orbit of the Moon_

_Goa'uld Ha'tak_

Master Tre'tak was a proud Jaffa. Selected by the great god Anubis to be the first to strike down the heretical Tau'ri, Tre'tak would carry out his assigned duties with both honor and courage. Assigned command of one of his god's fearsome Ha'taks and two Al'kesh, his orders were to gather intelligence on the human world and then if he faced no resistance, to launch a probing attack.

"Master Tre'tak, we have detected two vessels approximately fifty million kilometers from here," reported one of his subordinates, operating the tactical console in front of him. "We are however unable to get any clear readings. Our sensors are being disrupted somehow."

"Tau'ri tricks," replied the master with a sneer of derision. "Send the Al'kesh to investigate but tell them to be on guard."

"Yes sir," replied the underling, relaying the orders.

Tre'tak wasn't a stupid Jaffa. One didn't rise to his position among Anubis' ranks by being dim-witted. Still he couldn't fathom the reason the Tau'ri vessels were hiding in plain sight. Surely they knew they'd been detected. But still they tried to hide, like a child believing that by putting their hands in front of their face, they became invisible.

* * *

"We are within docking range," reported EDI. "I can establish a tentative link to their network through their short range sensors; enough to allow the Normandy to dock and offload the boarding party without being seen and granting you some time before their internal sensors detect you. However you'll have to make a direct connection once within the vessel."

"Can't you just force your way in," asked Shepard with a note of worry. Much of their battle plan relied on EDI's attacks.

"I can. However there is a high probability they would be able to send a distress signal before I could disable their communications array, rendering our plan useless."

"Understood, get it done. I'm going to pick up the marines and my team," replied Shepard, turning exiting the cockpit.

Entering the armory, Shepard couldn't help but laugh at the looks on the marine's faces. For all the world they looked like kids in a candy store. They'd traded in their obsolete Berettas and M16A4 assault rifles for M6 Carniflex hand cannons, M9 Tempest submachine guns and either M15 Vindicator assault rifles or M27 Scimitar assault shotguns.

"Commander, you guys have got some sweet weapons here," enthused Colonel Reynolds with a big, face splitting grin. "Hell you even have that micro-nuke launcher. Who the hell came up with that thing anyway?"

"Someone with way too much testosterone and too little common sense," muttered Jacob from the side of the room, typing on his terminal and shooting Jade a disparaging look. At this Shepard couldn't help but grin. It didn't matter if it didn't made sense; it was true.

"You guys ready to go?"

"Yes ma'am. Just wish we had some spiffy armor like you too."

"Maybe later," grinned Jade. She couldn't help but like these marines. Then again she generally liked all marines. "Come on, we're about to dock."

The group of five made their way back to the airlock, meeting Jack, Garrus and Tali along the way. Shepard had decided that this mission might require more than the usual three person team and besides, she didn't want to be outnumbered by the marines. She had her pride to consider.

They'd only entered the airlock when EDI announced that they'd managed to dock, surprisingly gently. Joker was obviously not taking any chances on this mission.

"Ok remember people, we need to keep it quiet until we can get EDI a direct uplink to their systems," ordered Shepard as they waited for the Goa'uld airlock to cycle.

"But then we can kill as many as we feel like right," grinned Jack.

"Oh hell yeah," replied Shepard, the blood thirstiness on display unnerving SG3 a bit. "But the commander is off limits, at least until we get what we need from him or her."

"With all due respect commander," began Reynolds with a note of worry as the group of eight finally passed through the airlock, the thick door closing behind them, the Normandy undocking and floating away beyond with only a slight puff from her maneuvering thrusters, "I doubt he'll help you. The Goa'uld can be surprisingly stubborn. So can the Jaffa for the matter."

"I didn't expect them to. We just need a sample of his voice and some digital video. EDI can create a life like simulation. Unless they get into specifics, no one will know the difference. And I don't plan to let them interrogate us."

This brought the colonel up short. If their AI could do all these things, what else could it do? To be honest the thing reminded him somewhat of the replicators. Still he was a soldier and would follow orders. He just hoped he wouldn't regret it.

* * *

Tre'tak was beginning to get one of those feelings, the kind that told him that something was about to go very wrong. Not that he could pin down the cause of the intuition and that infuriated him even more.

"What is the status of the two Tau'ri vessels," he demanded of his underlings. Something was wrong, he just knew it.

"They are retreating from the Al'kesh, keeping out of the range of their short range sensors. We are still unable to break through the interference surrounding them."

'Could it be that they are leading our forces into a trap,' the old Jaffa thought to himself. 'No, even the Tau'ri could destroy a pair of Al'kesh with minimal effort. So what are they planning?'

"Master Jaffa, I am experiencing difficulties with our weapon systems."

"Explain," demanded the master, sure that he would not like the answer.

"I cannot. The system is increasingly unresponsive," replied the Jaffa manning the weapons, frantically pressing buttons without result. A chiming nearly made him cry out. "Master, we have been boarded. Internal sensors are detecting eight life signs on deck five in one of the auxiliary control rooms."

"I knew it," yelled Tre'tak angrily. "I knew the Tau'ri were up to something. Contact Lord Anubis and let him know of this treachery. And send warriors to capture the intruders."

"I cannot," replied the underling in a panicked voice, "communications have just been taken offline. I also cannot contact our Al'kesh. Wait… our engines have also gone offline as have the weapons and shields. I'm losing control of almost every system."

"What trickery is this," demanded Master Tre'tak. "How can they do this?"

"My lord, our Al'kesh have just been destroyed."

"WHAT? HOW?"

"It appears the two Tau'ri vessels just destroyed themselves taking the bombers with them in the explosion," replied the underling, the confusion clear in his voice. That was not like the Tau'ri.

* * *

"Connection established," reported EDI, her avatar appearing on the holographic display before them. "I am taking control of their systems. I will have complete control momentarily."

"Good," replied Shepard, "once that's done, prime the drones and take out those two bombers."

"What are you talking about," asked the colonel.

"One thing about the Screamers, we never let them fall into enemy hands," replied Shepard matter-of-factly. "To that end, each one is equipped with a self destruct system. A thermonuclear self destruct system."

A look of comprehension appeared on Reynolds' face, followed by a tactical readout on the holographic display, pilfered Asgard technology that Anubis had downloaded from Thor during his imprisonment. The two icons representing the Tau'ri 'ships' suddenly reversed course and quickly closed with the Al'kesh. Moments later large, expanding white circles representing nuclear detonations replaced the icons and quickly encompassed the Goa'uld bombers before all four symbols disappeared forever.

"Targets destroyed," reported EDI. "I have complete control over this vessel."

"Begin locking down the ship. Close every door you can. If they try to break through, depressurize the whole compartment."

"Understood commander. I am leaving a path open to you between your current location and the command center. Be warned, there are numerous enemies between here and there."

"I was beginning to worry we might have brought all this firepower along for no reason," said Shepard.

"No chance," replied Jack, the feral look she always took on during combat overcoming her features.

The group exited the room, the consoles going dark as they left. Moving down the only available path, Shepard couldn't help but be repulsed by the décor. Why the hell would you have braziers with actual fire on a starship? Not to mention this race liked gold way too much for her tastes.

Rounding a corner, they ran straight into the first group of Jaffa who immediately opened fire with their clumsy, awkward weapons. Shepard herself took several of the yellow bolts to her torso, her kinetic barrier stopping the things cold but dropping by almost thirty percent. Ducking back around the corner and pulling out her SMG, she said a few choice words before rolling out, hosing down the enemy soldiers with hyper-accelerated grain sized bolts of ceramic. Behind the specter, the strike team opened up on the Jaffa who had flattened themselves along the wall so as not to present such large targets.

"Fuck, FUCK," screamed Jack as she reloaded her pistol, having already nailed six enemy soldiers between the eyes. More and more kept reinforcing them from beyond the far bulkhead. "The hell with this," she screamed, extending her arm.

What happened next stunned both the Jaffa and the marines into silence. Her body glowed blue and a shockwave of energy swept out from the tattooed woman along the floor throwing many of the Jaffa into the air. She followed up with another shockwave that threw the Jaffa down the hall, impacting bulkheads and walls with sickening crunches. A moment later it was over, the only sound; the creaking of Shepard's armor.

"What. The. Fuck," said Major Warren, Reynolds second in command, emphasizing each word; unknowingly echoing the thoughts of the other three marines. "How the hell did you do that?"

"I take it you've never encountered biotics before," said Shepard with a grin, a similar bluish light surrounding her body. "I guess you could call them super powers. They're artificial in nature and made possible by a substance we call element zero coupled with some cybernetics. What you saw was Jack using the shockwave power. I'm currently using the barrier power to reinforce my shields. Comes in handy."

"I'll bet," stammered Reynolds. 'What the hell are these people,' he thought, glancing at the two aliens beside him nervously.

"Come on, let's take the bridge. We still have a mission to complete," said Jade as she began walking down the corridor, pulling the spent thermal clip from her SMG, the red smoking tube clattering as it hit the floor.

"After you."

* * *

Tre'tak was not in a good mood. It seemed that whatever had taken control of his ship delighted in torturing him. They were helpless; their weapons, defenses, propulsion, communications and even life support beyond their control. The only thing he had access to was the internal sensors and as he watched, the icons representing his brave Jaffa were quickly disappearing. And the path of the intruders was clear as day.

They were coming here.

Already he could hear the sounds of the Tau'ri weaponry. The few survivors of the battles with the invaders spoke of demons that slaughtered his fellow Jaffa without mercy. Weaponry that made even the formidable, though primitive projectile weapons the humans used look weak and benign by comparison. Some were said to wear armor that was protected by a shield like that of the gods, capable of absorbing many bolts from a staff with ease. They spoke of unknown aliens that fought alongside the humans, one wielding a great weapon that could rip a Jaffa in half with one shot, the other able to materialize a ball of light that struck out with bolts of lightning similar to a zat'nik'tel.

And then there was the one said to be able to fling you across the room with a wave of her hand. Only the gods were said to have such power, he had seen it himself. For the first time in his life the old Jaffa master was afraid. Could it be that these mere humans were being aided by a god more powerful than his own?

"My lord, the enemy draws near," said the Jaffa that had previously manned the tactical console, handing Tre'tak a staff.

"Then we shall make them sorry they ever set foot aboard this vessel," Tre'tak replied simply.

"It is an honor to serve beside you," said the Jaffa as he took position behind one of the decorative pillars that lined the sides of the peltac.

Moments later the door to the peltac opened. Having expected a flood of invaders, the old Jaffa was confused when nothing came through. 'Wait, did I see something,' Tre'tak questioned himself, having seen a slight distortion in the door frame and cursing his slightly failing vision. Dismissing it, he continued to aim his weapon at the entranceway.

A loud bang interrupted his concentration and the head of the Jaffa beside him exploded, showering him in blood and brain matter. A human, shimmering into view quickly took cover behind one of the decorative pillars that lined the side of the room, the Jaffa pelting the area with plasma and distracted from the real threat. More fire started impacting the Jaffa from the door way, four of their number falling within the first few seconds. Then the demon approached.

The creature appeared to be a human female, covered in markings of all colors and lacking any hair on her head. Projecting a shimmering energy field around herself and her companions that seemed to absorb weapons fire like a great shield, nothing could seem to hurt the invaders. She lashed out, a cascading wave of blue sweeping over the largest concentration of remaining warriors, throwing them into consoles and walls. Then she turned her attention to him.

A wave of her hand and Tre'tak suddenly found himself floating mid-air, helpless and defenseless. He had dropped his staff when he had been wrenched from his cover and lacking any other weapon he could merely float, cursing the entire time. The rest of the Jaffa were dead, the door to the peltac having somehow sealed itself. With nothing to defend himself with and looking down the barrels of eight very deadly weapons, the old Jaffa decided to stop resisting and surrender, a terrible fate for one so old and with as many kills as he. Worst of all he knew that he had failed.

He had failed his god.

One of the humans, dressed in some sort of heavy armor patterned as he had seen other Tau'ri soldiers wear but in red, blue and black, approached him. "I am Commander Jade Shepard, commander of the SSV Normandy. Your ship is now under my command. You will call you 'god'," she sneered at that word, "and inform him that Earth has a fleet totaling forty ships as well as weapons created by the Ancients."

"I will do no such thing human hasshak," replied the Jaffa master, mustering all the contempt he could and putting it into that insult.

"You will or I will kill you here. More so, I will order all the remaining Jaffa onboard this ship vented into space while you watch, compartment by compartment. You can do that, right EDI," she said, turning to the main screen.

The image that materialized confused Tre'tak. A blue sphere, surrounded by scrolling words appeared and began talking. "I can commander. Should I start with any particular section?"

"Probably engineering. Don't want them trying to scuttle the ship. We can use the firepower."

"Very well, on your orders commander."

"It does not matter what you do human. I will never betray my god. You can kill me and every warrior on this ship. We die knowing we served a higher power." With that declaration the Jaffa closed his eyes, refusing to say anything more.

"You got all that EDI?"

"Yes I did," replied a voice that shocked Tre'tak into opening his eyes again. On the screen an image of himself stood looking out, watching them. Behind the imposter however was an image of a peltac in ruins, bodies ripped apart, consoles on fire and debris littering the floor. His double was covered in cuts, blood running down one cheek, obscured by a heavy cloud of smoke hanging in the air.

"What is this trickery?"

"Quite frankly we didn't think you'd cooperate with us," said Shepard, as if explaining something simple to a child. "We needed to provoke you, to get you to say enough so that EDI could create a virtual duplicate. We can use it to fool Anubis into thinking we are considerably more powerful than we are. And by doing so, we can delay him long enough to get our defenses ready."

The Jaffa master could only stare at this human, the image of himself looking back impassively behind her. Beyond that, through the window that looked out to the heavens, a small white ship moved into view, its black, white and orange hull gleaming in reflected sunlight.

"And now it is time you took your curtain call. If you worship any real god do so," Shepard said, drawing her pistol and putting it to the Jaffa's head. "Somehow I doubt the fake Goa'uld one can help you now," she finished, pulling the trigger. Jaffa Master Tre'tak, survivor of countless battles, overseer of countless atrocities, dropped dead to the floor.

* * *

Anubis was beginning to worry, something all together unfitting for a being of his power. The scouting group he had sent to Earth was overdue and wasn't responding to communications. A million different reasons could explain this lack of contact but he couldn't help but worry that perhaps he had drastically underestimated the situation.

The fact was that this plan was extremely dangerous, even with his new technology. He'd already lost his greatest advantage against the system lords and the Asgard; the Ancient weapon that his old command ship was equipped with was little more than debris spread across the surface of Langara along with the rest of the ship itself.

The small grey aliens were a considerable threat to him even with the advanced weaponry and shields he possessed. Unlike those fools among the system lords, he wholly believed that the Asgard cruiser his forces had managed to destroy was little more than an obsolete pile of refuse, destined for the scrap-yard as Thor has told him. And if they had even a small fleet of their new ships available then attacking one of the protected planets, much less Earth, would draw their ire in a way he'd spend the next century recovering from, at the very least.

Then there was the Tau'ri themselves. Again and again they'd shown that they were capable of defending themselves. They'd thwarted several other attacks on their world launched by both himself and by other system lords in the past. The truth was that he had no idea what kind of defenses they might possess. He'd heard rumors that they now had space capable warships and fighters. Even worse he knew they were looking for the lost city of the Ancients like himself. If it was indeed on Earth and if they could operate its defenses, this attack would be short and brutal, and not in a good way.

The voice of Her'ak, his first prime interrupted his musings. "My lord, we are receiving a signal from Tre'tak. It is weak and heavily distorted."

"Put it on the main screen."

"Yes my lord," replied the stoic Jaffa, bowing before entering the necessary commands into his console. The image that appeared was filled with static at first but quickly resolved itself into one that both the Goa'uld and Jaffa had seen many times before: the burning remains of a peltac.

"This is Master Tre'tak. We have suffered heavy casualties and I do not know how much longer we will survive. The Tau'ri are much stronger than we were led to believe. They have a mighty fleet protecting their world. They also possess powerful weapons similar to our own spread across the planet's surface but of considerable power. Only one bolt struck us and our shield nearly collapsed. The Tau'ri warships have surrounded us and we have been boarded." The Jaffa turned away and gunfire could be heard in the background. "Whatever you do, do not come to this world. They cannot be defeated, not with the forces we possess. I...," the Jaffa began to say. Before he could continue, Tau'ri soldiers burst into the room and the old master went down in a hail of gunfire. Tau'ri soldiers could be seen surging onto the peltac before the transmission dissolved into static.

"My lord," Her'ak questioned, seeking instructions.

"This was unanticipated," replied Anubis, unafraid of showing ignorance in front of his first prime. Unlike the other Goa'uld, Anubis didn't make a show of pretending to be a god, at least not in front of his highest ranking Jaffa. They knew he had real power and followed because of that, not simple tricks and propaganda like the rest of his wretched race. "The weapons they speak of could be those taken from the lost city. If this is so, their world has become unassailable for the moment. We need more information. Take the fleet to battle stations. We will depart for their system in ten minutes and exit near the fourth planet. That will allow us to survey the situation before deciding to continue or retreat."

"Yes my lord."


	4. Chapter Three The Battle of Orbit

**Chapter Three – The Battle of Orbit**

_Oval Office, White House_

_January 25, 2004_

_Washington D.C, USA_

"Mr. President, I can now confirm the Goa'uld scouting force has been neutralized," announced General Francis Maynard before putting the telephone receiver back to her ear.

The news was certainly a welcome change of pace for the president. "And the vessel itself?"

"It took minor damage during the boarding action but it's still fully combat effective," replied the general with a grin, one that quickly spread around the room.

"Well it's a good thing SG1 wasn't the team I sent then," added General Hammond, a video stream from _Prometheus_ displayed on the flat screen LCD the president had in the office. "With their luck, the whole damned thing would've been invaded by replicators, crashed into the ocean or something else equally unpleasant."

"Something to be avoided I agree," replied the president. Hammond could get away with jokes like that. He and the president were old friends and besides, the man was a bloody hero.

"What about the crew," asked Joshua Roberts, the president's chief of staff.

"During the boarding action, Commander Shepard had her AI seal off most of the ship and ordered any compartment depressurized if the crew tried to break out. Most tried," replied Maynard with a shrug. He wasn't about to shed any tears over people who wanted to enslave his world. "The majority are dead, either from suffocation or in the case of those in outer sections, simply blown into space. We took a few prisoners but not many. I've already ordered a crew and some marines sent up from Area 51. She'll be fully combat ready in a few minutes."

"That quickly," asked the President with a not inconsiderably amount of surprise.

"Goa'uld ships are the textbook definition of idiot-proof Mr. President," replied Hammond with a grin. "The system lords keep their slaves stupid and uneducated so they can't expect them to understand how their warships functions. Just what buttons to press to make them go and shoot."

"Mr. President at this time I'm recommending we launch _Prometheus_," began Maynard in a grave tone, all traces of amusement long since departed. "This action will only delay Anubis so long. We need all our assets ready and available. I'm also recommending we get all our jets into the air, ready our naval forces for engagement and order our missile batteries prepped for launch."

"Our missile batteries?" asked the president somewhat confused.

"Every since the aborted attack on Earth by Apophis in 1998, we've been refitting our ICBMs into surface to orbit missiles. Officially the USAF operates four hundred and fifty land based Minuteman III ICBMs. In reality we have over a thousand ready and waiting for launch each armed with three mark eight naquadah enhanced nuclear warhead. We've also refitted our Ohio-class ballistic missile subs as well so that adds another three hundred and thirty six missiles, each with four mark eights. Believe me; the Goa'uld will have one hell of a fight on their hands."

"Very well general, I'll leave the specifics to you. Do what needs to be done," replied Hayes before turning to Hammond's feed, "and you've got a go George. Good luck and god's speed."

"Thank you Mr. President," replied the old general, his image disappearing a moment later.

"God's speed to us all."

* * *

_Area 51 Docks_

_January 25, 2004_

_USS Prometheus BC-303_

"Sir, we're ready for launch," reported Major Erin Gant, Hammond's XO.

"Ok, let's do this. Signal flight control to open the roof and get us into orbit."

The doors above the small warships opened, bright sunlight flooding into the massive hanger. Unlike before there was little concern about secrecy and _Prometheus,_ normally only launched at night, quickly made here was into the sky, scaring the crap out of a flight of F-22A Raptors in the process.

"Sir, we've achieved orbit," replied Gant from Hammond's left. "And I believe we've also achieved the mission of making those pilots piss themselves," she added, a round of laughter rippling through the bridge.

"Mission accomplished," replied Hammond with a grin, somewhat worried that he'd jinxed the whole mission. After all, the last time someone said those words… well they were still in Iraq.

"Incoming transmission from Commander Shepard and Colonel Caldwell," announced the officer manning communications.

"Put it up," replied Hammond as he turned to the plasma display on the side of the bridge.

The images projected to him were certainly a study in contrast, Hammond had to admit. On the left was a feed from the Normandy, Commander Shepard standing on a small platform overlooking a floating holographic tactical map. On the right, Colonel Steven Caldwell, who was to take command of the _Daedalus_ once she was finished or for that matter, started, was squirming in the uncomfortable throne at the back of the peltac of the Ha'tak everyone was calling the _Enterprise_.

"Commander, Colonel. Good to see you both. And good work on taking the, um, _Enterprise._"

"Thank you general," replied Shepard with a smirk. She herself was not a complete stranger of Sci-Fi and had suggested the name almost immediately, much to the dismay of Caldwell and his bald, shiny head.

"First of all, what is the status over there Steven," asked George getting straight to business.

"We're fully combat ready. _Normandy's_ AI has released the lockouts on the ships computers and we've dealt with the bodies."

"That is not all," interrupted EDI, her blue avatar appearing below Shepard's image. "Having assessed the _Enterprise_, I have been able to enhance several systems. Shield strength has been increased one hundred eighty six percent and weapons should fire one hundred forty seven percent faster than previously possible. This has come at the expense of a decrease in the service life of said mechanisms."

"Well that should definitely help," commented Caldwell, a slight tone of respect creeping into his voice. AI's were certainly helpful. "Still, I think we need a battle plan here."

"To that end, I've come up with something," began Shepard, both men giving their undivided attention to the scarred woman. "Our main weapon in this battle is not our guns, its EDI. She'll be infiltrating the enemy's computers and wreaking as much havoc as possible. Coupled with our electronic warfare suite and to a lesser degree the _Prometheus'_, we should be able to leave the enemy half blind and confused, at least long enough for your people to get here and get those weapons online."

"Well that's certainly ambitious," whistled Caldwell, "but what about us?"

"_Enterprise _and _Prometheus_ will team up and go after any enemy we weaken. EDI will prioritize disabling shield systems and causing overloads to weapons or reactors or simply venting crews into space. When she's about to bring a shield down, she'll send you a warning and you hit them with a nuke or pound them with your plasma cannons, respectively. Meanwhile the _Normandy_ will be staging high speed hit and run attacks straight through the enemy formation. Not only will we be able to use our weapons more effectively, but our electronic warfare systems will become more effective. Besides, if we're among their fleet, they'll have to be more cautious where they shoot for fear of hitting their allies."

"Good idea, but you'll be getting it from all sides," said Hammond.

"We can take it. It should prove to be quite effective, and it will have the side effect of breaking up their formation. Now next on the list in communications security. I know that the Goa'uld are probably too primitive to intercept our comms but just in case I'm sending you both an encryption cipher. Don't send out any communications without using it and don't accept any signal from our forces that don't use it. I've also sent it to the Pentagon do they can keep in touch."

"I don't think that'll be necessary," began Caldwell before shrugging, "but it's good OpSec anyway."

"A few final points. First about your fighters; send them all into the atmosphere. With the amount of weaponry that's about to be thrown around, they'd just get in the way. Secondly, _Prometheus'_ railguns are too small to do any real damage to a Ha'tak, so save them for the small fry and prioritize the enemy bombers. _Normandy's_ GARDIANs will so the same. And stay near the _Enterprise_, her point defenses are practically non-existent. Finally general, save your super-nukes for when you really need them. You're equipped with some smaller conventional ordinance aren't you?"

"Yeah, we've got mark three tacticals with a yield of about thirty megatons and mark eights with a yield of one point two gigatons."

"Save the mark eights for shield cracking or mass attacks. Use the mark threes for dealing with ships that lose their shields. Should be more than powerful enough anyway. Any questions," she asked receiving a negative from both men. "Ok, now for the hardest part: waiting."

* * *

_Hyperspace, On Approach to Sol System_

_Anubis' Command Ship_

"My lord, we're about to drop out of hyperspace," reported Her'ak.

"Good. As soon as we do, begin scanning for the enemy. Then we shall see what they truly have."

The massive warship, almost five kilometers across began decelerating. Space split open, waves of unstable subspace energy and Cherenkov radiation spilling into space. From this rift, twenty nine warships appeared, their six-hundred meter hulls quickly overshadowed by the massive disk of Anubis' monstrosity and surrounded by almost a hundred Al'kesh. In the background, the rust colored planet of Mars sat ignored, mineral rich but useless to the primitive methods employed by the system lords.

Moments later the first readings from the vicinity of Earth filtered onto the main display. "My lord, we've detected only three ships in Earth orbit. One is identified as Tre'tak's Ha'tak. Two other two are unknowns. There is no sign of damage to the Ha'tak and no sign of the alleged Tau'ri fleet. There are also two small clouds of radiation approximately fifty-five million kilometers from the planet and debris from two Al'kesh."

"So the Tau'ri tried to trick us into aborting our attack. Clever," sneered Anubis, his amorphous form shifting slightly, "but not clever enough. Set a course for Earth. We will destroy the vessels and then we will deal with the planet."

"Yes, my lord," replied Her'ak, a smile crossing his lips. He hoped he would be able to see the broken body of the insolent human O'Neill. It would finally make up for the humiliation he suffered on Abydos at his hands.

The massive fleet surged forward, eschewing the use of their hyperdrives for the psychological effect the massive fleet would have on the defenders of the doomed world.

Too bad it didn't work.

* * *

_CIC_

_SSV Normandy SR2_

"Here they come," shouted Shepard over the comm. "Garrus, are you ready?"

A deck below, the scarred Turian entered a final command into his terminal before activating his comm. "They won't know what hit them."

"Good. EDI, status?"

"I am fully prepared for battle. All systems are online and functional. I have established a secure laser comm to both _Prometheus_ and _Enterprise_, however be aware it will only remain functional within a radius of one hundred and fifty thousand kilometers. Beyond that I will switch to subspace."

"And hope like hell the Goa'uld are as incompetent as we all think they are," commented Jacob from the tactical console.

"Also, remember my resources are not infinite," chided the AI. "I will only be able to launch attacks on a limited number of enemy warships at once while simultaneously operating the electronic warfare, point defense and ship's other systems."

"Do your best EDI," replied Shepard with a smile. Even AIs weren't omnipotent. "Colonel Reynolds, thanks for staying on," added Shepard, turning to the marine at her side.

"Not much use on the ground and if we get boarded you can certainly use the firepower."

"Agreed. Joker, is everything set?"

"Don't worry; I'll have the _Normandy_ dancing through their formation like a hummingbird on meth."

"And thank you for that image," replied Shepard with a slight frown. Sometimes the pilot had the oddest notions.

Minutes passed as the enemy fleet approached like a great wave of locusts; unstoppable and unassailable.

"Commander, the enemy is entering maximum weapons range," reported Jacob.

With a deep breath, Shepard gave the command. "Fire."

A massive stream of plasmatic ceramic leapt from the twin cannons on _Normandy's_ belly, seemingly enveloping the entire nose of the small frigate; the range unheard of in their own universe thanks to EDI co-opting the _Prometheus'_ sensors. Moments later it was joined by four smaller streams of particle energy from her wings, slamming into the lead Ha'tak's shields. The pyramid ship's shield flared bright yellow, straining to dissipate the massive energies hammering it; the whole ship shuttering, bolts of energy arcing between the energy barrier and the hull. The beams cut out after only a second, but before the crew could regain their footing the beams slammed into their shields again, this time aided by a pair of disruptor torpedoes.

Used in their own universe to break down the powerful kinetic barriers of cruisers and dreadnoughts, _Normandy's _torpedoes create a localized space/time warp on impact that causes matter and energy to begin tearing itself apart. Against the shields of the unfortunate Ha'tak, the torpedoes were sufficient to disrupt the energy barrier to the point that the Thanix cannons were able to punch through. With nothing stopping the deadly stream of plasma, the armor being woefully inadequate for the task, the outcome was foregone. The entire side of the supporting structure around the central pyramid exploded, jetting debris, bodies and burning atmosphere into space. This was followed up moments later by a round from _Normandy's_ mass accelerator cannon. The ten kilogram projectile slammed into the ripped and torn hull, the fragmentary round shattering sending razor shape pieces of tungsten shooting through deck after deck before breeching the main reactor. The results were spectacular.

"Target destroyed," reported Jacob with a grin. "But it looks like we've stirred up a hornet's nest. Incoming fighters and bombers. Enemy will enter their weapon's range in ten seconds."

"Ok EDI, you're up," ordered Shepard, gripping the railing overlooking the tactical holo that had replaced the galaxy map.

"Understood, activating systems."

* * *

The bridge of the _Prometheus_ was nearly silent; the only sounds being the humming of the engines and the occasional chirp of a console. The display the _Normandy_ had just put on startled the crew, the raw violence the small frigate unleashed on the unfortunate Goa'uld vessel eclipsing anything they'd ever seen before.

The silence as deafening as it was only lasted a few moments. "Um, we have incoming Al'kesh and Death Gliders," reported Gant.

"Understood," replied Hammond regaining his wits, "ready all railguns. Target is the Al'kesh. For the moment ignore the gliders unless they try to get past us and into the atmosphere."

Along the hull the railguns of the _Prometheus_ began tracking their targets, the Earth/Goa'uld hybrid targeting systems easily keeping a lock on the lightly shielded bombers. Moments later the cannons began spewing a continuous stream of five millimeter armor piercing, trinium jacketed, naquadah/potassium high explosive rounds began pelting the shields of the Al'kesh. Within moments the protective bubble of the first bomber failed and the rounds ripped into its thin hull, the small vessel showering its escorts in debris as the projectiles tore it apart.

The Death Gliders, seeing their larger brethren falling before the guns for the little battlecruiser began strafing the _Prometheus_. However their light staff cannons, designed more for anti-fighter combat and frightening uneducated presents into compliance had little effect on the Asgard enhanced Goa'uld shields that protected the USAF vessel.

Meanwhile the _Enterprise_ was firing bolt after bolt against a pair of enemy Ha'tak. While two against one, the enhancements made by EDI were proving their worth, the first enemy vessel exploding moments later, the large bolts of plasma tearing it apart, the second following a few seconds later.

"Sir, the _Enterprise's_ shields have dropped to forty percent. Ours are holding at seventy eight percent," reported Gant, the _Prometheus_ shaking under a series of repeated impacts.

"Very well, have them withdraw back to orbit for a moment to allow their shields to recharge. What's the status of the _Normandy_?"

"She's taking names. She's taken out three enemy Ha'tak and over two dozen Al'kesh so far. Looks like the Goa'uld are having trouble targeting her."

"Let's hope that isn't the only problem they're having," replied Hammond, as the _Prometheus_ came about, firing off a pair of mark threes at a Ha'tak whose shield was about to fail.

* * *

Anubis was in a bad mood and was rapidly proceeding to 'pissed off'. The Tau'ri forces were making a mockery of his forces. The enemy was slaughtering his Al'kesh, the Death Gliders were having virtually no impact on the battle and he'd already lost six Ha'tak, not including Tre'tak's which they'd captured and turned against him.

"Her'ak," began the evil overlord calmly, "what is happening?"

"I am unsure my lord. We are experiencing extreme interference to both communications and sensors."

Anubis thought this over for a moment. The Goa'uld didn't really have an understanding of electronic warfare. They preferred to attack an enemy head on and beat them to death. He had learned from his time among the ascended about the concept however, and it appeared the Tau'ri were masters of it.

"Begin moving this ship towards the front lines and increase power to sensors and communications. Contact any vessel you can prioritizing the Ha'tak then the remaining Al'kesh and have them form up in a close formation around us. This should overcome the communications difficulties and prevent that irritating vessel from making those slashing attacks into our ranks."

"Yes my lord. Also I have been observing a series of odd malfunctions among our forces. Several vessels have been the victim of weapon overloads causing extreme damage and one has even vented its crew to space."

"Why would…," began Anubis before realizing the truth. "I did not think it possible…"

"My lord?"

"The Tau'ri have somehow found a way to infiltrate and disrupt our computer systems." As if to emphasize his point, one of the Ha'taks exploded for seemingly no reason.

"That was a reactor overload. My lord, how dangerous could this be?"

"Extremely. If they can access our vessels in that manner, they could destroy us all. Find out which ship is responsible and destroy it."

"Yes my lord."

* * *

"Seems as if they're on to us," commented Jacob in a worried tone.

"Evasive maneuvers. EDI, focus on disabling the weapons of the ships attacking us," ordered Shepard, the extreme maneuvers the _Normandy_ was taking slightly overwhelming the inertial dampeners. A series of impacts shook the ship, Shepard barely holding on to the railing in front of her as alarms began blaring.

"Shields are down," reported EDI. "Recharge in fifteen seconds."

The battle had been going well up to this point. The Goa'uld were practically helpless once they'd began interfering with their communications. The enemy fighters were flying around like dazed insects; the various point defense systems eliminating them in droves. The enemy bombers, while shielded were not a match for the GARDIAN lasers, the fifty megawatt infrared pulse lasers rapidly overwhelming their defenses are cutting them apart before they could launch their plasma payloads.

However with the barriers down, things were starting to take a turn for the worse. While the enemy ships were having difficulties targeting them, the _Normandy_ was at practically point-blank range among their formation, Joker doing everything he could to keep from being hit. Regardless of his brilliant piloting however, it was inevitable that weapons fire would begin impacting the armor. The dense Silaris armor was holding back the damage for the moment but it wouldn't last forever. Shepard watched the status of the kinetic barrier system, almost willing it to recharge faster.

"Shields have been restored," reported EDI after a small eternity. "Minor damage to forward armor. All systems still fully functional."

"Thank god for that upgrade," commented Jacob.

"Yes, that was a good suggestion. Though how Cerberus got their hands on cutting edge Asari armor technology is something we'll need to discuss in the future," replied Shepard, the amusement clear in her voice.

"Commander, _Prometheus'_ sensors have detected a vessel approaching the system in hyperspace," reported EDI. "Communications have confirmed that it is carrying a power source for an alien weapon system hidden on Earth."

"Do we know where they're headed?"

"It appears that the system is located in Antarctica. I have already sent a warning to the USAF and they're vectoring fighters to the area."

"That's not our only concern," reported Jacob, "the enemy has closed formation to overcome communications difficulties and to counter our attacks. They're also having an easier time targeting us now that they can network their sensors. And they're redeploying towards the Antarctic."

"Shit," replied Shepard, cursing communication leaks.

"Wait, confirmed, three enemy Ha'tak are breaking off and heading for North America,"

"Damn it, they're trying to get us to split our forces," cursed the commander, a look of rage crossing her features. "Contact the Pentagon. Tell them plan Ragnarok is a go."

"Yes ma'am," replied Jacob, not willing to piss off the woman when she was in this mood.

* * *

_USS Pennsylvania_

_122km off The California Coast_

"It's confirmed," replied Captain Robert Clancy, "we have two enemy warships heading for orbit over southern California. Plan Ragnarok is being enacted."

"We've been given the go," said his XO with a heavy sigh. With the need for planetary defense, the US Navy's ballistic missile submarines were among one of the few weapons systems already present that could accommodate both the need for secrecy and the ability to strike targets in orbit. So they'd been brought into the program with the hope that they'd never be needed. Now that was about to change.

"Yeah, let's do it. Take us to fifty meters and flood the missile silos. Coordinate with SATCOM for targeting information. Target twelve missiles on each enemy ship. No reason to leave anything in the silos."

The orders we relayed and two minutes later everything was ready. "Sir, we're ready to launch."

"Understood. Weapons, launch missiles from silos one through twenty four."

A deep rumbling reverberated through the hull, the twenty four missiles, each carrying four mark eight nuclear warheads pushing themselves out of their silos and into the air. Modified with inertial dampeners, the three stage Trident II missiles quickly broke through the atmosphere on a course for the enemy interlopers.

"Thirty seconds to impact," reported the XO.

"You know, I never thought I'd be the one," whispered Clancy, seemingly to himself.

"Sir?"

"One hundred fifteen point two. That is how many gigatons of nuclear ordinance we just launched. Do you think we can ever hope to cover up such a massive explosion over California?"

"No sir."

"We just disclosed the Stargate to the world and everything that goes along with it. Even if only one or two of those nukes goes off it'll be enough. Maybe it's for the best. To get things into the open and really begin fighting back for once."

"We can only hope."

* * *

Anubis was getting worried. He had finally reformed his fleet but he'd already lost more than two thirds of his main force. Four to weapon overloads, three to decompressions, five to reactor breeches and three to enemy missiles when their shields went down. And another six to outright weapons fire. Counting Tre'tak's Ha'tak he only had eight left along with his command ship. Most of his Al'kesh and Death Gliders had been destroyed and now it looked as if the humans were actually about to get their hands on the weapons of the ancients. But all that was secondary. What was worrying him was his latest and perhaps final gamble of the fight. In an effort to draw the defenders away from the southern continent he had sent three Ha'tak to attack major population centers of the nation identified as the United States of America. And the enemy was doing nothing in response.

"Her'ak, any counter to our movements?"

"No my lord. Perhaps they intend to sacrifice those lives for the greater good of their world."

Before Anubis could respond there were three bright flashes in orbit, massive shockwaves radiating out from the positions of his attack group. When the light cleared there was no sign of the warships, not even debris.

"Report!"

"Massive nuclear explosions. Our attack group has been completely destroyed. It appears the Tau'ri launched the weapons from positions on the surface. Sir, our forces assigned to attack SG1's position have been heavily engaged by enemy fighters. One of the enemy vessels has also descended into the atmosphere and is shielding the Tel'tak, the one responsible for the computer attacks. Wait, reading massive energy surge from the planet's surface. Incoming unknown objects."

Streams of glowing yellow missiles began shooting from the hole that SG1 had tunneled through the thick glacier. The few remaining Al'kesh and Death Gliders that hadn't already been slaughtered were intercepted and destroyed. After clearing the skies, the missiles broke orbit and began impacting the remaining Ha'tak, ripping them apart with contemptuous ease. Aboard his command ship, Anubis could only cry out in rage before the massive vessel exploded, debris flying everywhere.

The battle for Earth had ended. But the war had just begun.


	5. Chapter Four Aftermath

**Chapter Four – Aftermath**

_Situation Room, White House_

_January 26, 2004_

_Washington D.C, USA_

Entering the room, Commander Shepard couldn't help but feel like a tourist. In her reality and time this room still existed in an almost mythic capacity. The future had certainly held some setbacks for the USA but it was still the most powerful member of the Alliance. Even though humanity was supposedly united, people still came from various nations or colonies and nationalism still existed. Shepard herself was born an American, and before she lost her parents, she'd lived in Los Angeles. That'd all changed thanks to a drunk driver who'd gotten it into his head to try and fly his air-car manually.

Still she was proud to be an American and now here she was sitting in the situation room of the White House with some of the most powerful people of this age. Among them were the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the president's chief of staff. Also in the room were General Hammond, Colonel Caldwell, Major Carter and Doctor Jackson. Though she'd only been in this time for a few days, the things she'd heard about these people made even her career as a Specter seem tame. 'Hell, I've never blown up a solar system,' she thought with a grin, 'yet.'

"Ten-hut," announced the Marine at the door, everyone in the room shooting to their feet.

"Keep your seats," said President Hayes as he entered the room, as always being ignored until he himself sat down. "Well first off I'd like to congratulate you all. We're still here. That's the good news. The bad news is that the battle was practically broadcast on CNN and now I've got to disclose the existence of the biggest project in human history after having only known about it for a few days."

"Sorry about that sir," began Hammond before the president cut him off.

"It's ok George. I'd rather disclose the Stargate than have to write thousands of condolence letters to the families of servicemen we'd lost. Still we have a lot of problems and not a lot of time to solve them so let's get to it. Let's start with the aftermath of the battle itself."

"Well our losses were surprisingly low, mostly thanks to Commander Shepard and the _Normandy_," began Hammond, gesturing to the slightly embarrassed woman who was doing her level best not to blush. "If it wasn't for her and especially her AI, we'd have lost a lot more people. And the whole battle plan was in fact her creation. We lost twenty six F-302s and about twenty people between the _Prometheus_ and the, um, _Enterprise._"

"Please tell me that isn't what we're calling our captured enemy warship," groaned Maynard, the others in the room trying desperately to conceal their laughter. It wasn't good for one's career to laugh at the most powerful military leader in the world.

"Blame her," replied Caldwell with a frown, pointing at Shepard.

"What? It's a good name," replied the Specter with a shit-eating grin.

"Moving on," interrupted the President, who was trying desperately to suppress a chuckle of his own. "What about damage?"

"Well there's no two ways about it," replied Hammond with a shrug, "we got the crap kicked out of us. I'm surprised we lived through any of it. We've got hull breeches on multiple decks, multiple system failures both primary and secondary including our hyperdrive. Worse, we blew through a good chunk of our nuclear ordinance during the battle. We have enough to restock the _Prometheus_ but that's about it. Repairs are estimated at two months."

"About same for my ship," continued Caldwell, steadfastly refusing to use its given name. "We lost multiple weapon turrets and our hull is pretty damaged."

"On the other hand we have quite a bit of salvage sitting in orbit," added Carter, completely unaffected by the attention of everyone in the room turning towards her. "While a significant number of enemy vessels were destroyed, three are still more or less in pristine condition, their crews having been vented to space. Another four had most of their weapons overload by are still structurally intact and can be repaired."

"How long would that take," asked Hayes, impressed by the fortitude of the woman before him.

"We'd only need to recrew the three that lost life support. The other four will take a lot more time unfortunately. Having their weapons explode caused a significant amount of damage and even if we repair the damage itself, we still have to replace the weapons and that would take some time."

"Well I suppose three are better than none at all. What about the _Normandy?_"

"We took a few bad hits during the battle. We were already damaged when we came here and while your people are good, they couldn't magically materialize Silaris armor from thin air. Coupled with the damage we took during the battle, we're pretty shot up. We also used a dozen disruptor torpedoes and until we can either get to an Alliance facility or build our own, they're irreplaceable. We also burned a lot of fuel during the battle."

"Can we replace that?"

"Our reactors use helium-3. Not the most common material on Earth during this period. In my time we just mine it from Uranus."

"Well we'll do what we can. We owe you and your crew a lot. Now what about the shit-storm brewing on cable TV?"

"That's another problem," began Joshua Roberts, the president's chief of staff. "Detonating over a hundred gigatons of nuclear weaponry over California and over fifty over Wyoming wasn't exactly the most subtle thing to do. While it was far enough out that the EMP didn't cause more than a bit of interference to our communication grids, it lit the whole damned country up. Hell you could see it from Miami like a second sun. We also lost quite a few satellites from the EMP and flying debris. And most of the smaller stuff will be reentering the atmosphere for years."

"Worse, when it all started, people began getting out their telescopes," added Admiral Samuel Jellico, Chief of Naval Operations, "and not just amateurs. Several major observatories recorded a good chunk of the battle. Coupled with the surviving civilian imaging satellites and it won't be long before pictures of the _Normandy_ or _Prometheus _show up on the major news networks."

As if on cue, one of the marines at the side of the room interrupted the meeting. "Sirs, there's something I think you need to see."

"Ok son, put it up," said Hayes, already knowing what it would be.

The large plasma display at the end of the room opposite the president changed to display a live feed from CNN. "…for those of you who are just joining us, we bring you breaking news about what happened yesterday in space," announced the anchorwoman. "These pictures were captured by Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles. They appear to be of a battle that took place eighteen hours ago. While most of the ships do not appear to have any identifiable markings, we've identified English writing on two of them. On one the letters 'X-303 USAF' can clearly be made out near the rear of the vessel, seeming to indicate it is a warship belonging to the United States Air Force. On the other the name 'Normandy' along with the letters 'SR2' can also be clearly seen. During the battle it also appears that one of the alien vessels attacking us was fighting alongside our own."

"Oh fuck," stuttered Maynard, a chorus of curses spreading around the room. Hammond and members of SG1 meanwhile looked like deer caught in the headlights. 'Disclosure' was a word that at the SGC was regarded with about as much affection as 'alien invasion' or 'comtraya'.

"We are also receiving information from Alec Colson, the president of Colson Aviation. He claims to have satellite imagery of the battle. We're going to put it up."

The image that appeared was grainy and filled with static but it was clear enough. Footage showed the _Normandy_ diving into the enemy formation, Thanix cannons and particle beams repeatedly stabbing out at the enemy while her GARDIAN lasers ripped into enemy fighters. In the foreground the _Prometheus_ flew by chasing a pair of Al'kesh, railguns ripping into their hulls, their return fire splashing harmlessly against the warship's shields. A bright flash appeared in the background and a wave of static rolled over the screen, the use of nuclear weaponry clear as day. The feed then cut off into static and the anchorwoman reappeared looking startled and slightly pale.

"Um, that was... I don't know what we just saw. It appeared to be the vessels seen by Griffith fighting and destroying several alien ships. Um, anyone know what those weapons were?" the woman asked addressing the people off-camera.

"Turn it off," ordered the President, himself shocked by what he'd just seen. It was one thing to read it in a report. The footage brought home just what they were facing. "So, what's next?"

No one responded, a heavy silence blanketing the room. Eventually it was Dr. Jackson the broke the tension. "We need to tell them." There it had been said.

"Commander Shepard, your Earth has already been through this situation. Do you have any insights," asked the President, almost in a pleading tone.

The scarred woman just sat for a moment, looking at her hands. Eventually she looked up and sighed. "I don't really know what to say. For us, our first real evidence of other life in the universe came when we discovered the Prothean outpost at Promethei Planum on Mars. That's where our understanding of mass effect technology comes from. We didn't have aliens show up in orbit and try to kill us, though the First Contact War was pretty bad."

"First Contact War?" asked Maynard.

"Also known as the Relay Three Fourteen incident to the Turians. In 2157, an explorer ship was attempting to reactivate a mass relay and caught the attention of the Turians, the 'peacekeepers' of the Citadel council, a political and economic alliance between the various races. Rather than ask us what we were doing and telling us that reactivating primary relays was against the laws of most species, they just opened fire. Things escalated and before long they laid siege to the colony of Shanxi, our closest to the relay. When the second fleet showed up and booted their asses out of our territory things began escalating. Fortunately the rest of the Council intervened or things could've gotten really bad for us."

"Unfortunately we don't have a Citadel council to intervene between us and the Goa'uld," said Hammond. "Still it must have had consequences."

"No kidding. Until a few years ago, most races looked down on us and treated humanity like second class citizens. Then we save the council and the rest of the ungrateful bastards and they start acting like we're trying to take over. The organization that built the _Normandy_ and that rebuilt me is one of the consequences of that."

"What do you mean?"

"Two years ago I died. My ship, the _Normandy SR1_ was attacked by a race called the Collectors. While most of my crew survived, I wasn't among them. I was blown into space, my armor leaking air. I suffocated and froze to death in orbit of a frozen world called Alchera. I was retrieved by an organization called Cerberus, a group that will take almost any action to ensure the advancement and security of humanity, at least that's what they say. Most see them as terrorists. They rebuilt me as the focus of what they called Project Lazarus. They gave me the _Normandy_ and told me to go stop the Collectors who'd been abducting whole human colonies."

"Why you?"

"Because I was the first human Specter, a sort of mercenary commando commissioned by the council. And because I have the knowledge of the Protheans downloaded into my brain. It may be the only thing that can stop the Reapers from harvesting all life in my galaxy. And god knows they've already tried twice. That's why I'll do whatever you need me to do and why I'll give you access to all our technology."

"In exchange for what?" asked Hayes, knowing that there'd be something.

"For help getting home and for the technology you have access to. It might be the only thing that'll give us a chance against the Reaper fleet."

"Well setting that aside for the moment we still have to decide what to do about the political hurricane forming outside."

"Do nothing," interrupted Daniel, everyone turning their attention to the archeologist. "Do absolutely nothing."

"What do you mean Dr. Jackson," asked the president. "I thought you wanted to tell the world."

"I do. Look, we've been down this road before on other planets. Generally the human worlds in this galaxy fall into three categories. The primitive ones that don't really have the ability to understand the galaxy at large, the advanced ones that have already dealt with the fact that there are other inhabited worlds and other races among the stars, the worlds like Earth; worlds that are industrialized but are not united. If you go ahead with a full disclosure right away without having a concrete plan, without having at least a modicum of foreign coordination and without mobilizing the National Guard to keep order, things will go very badly. On other worlds, we've seen it escalate to nuclear war."

"So what do you propose?"

"Contact our allies and get them to put their support behind the United States publicly. Contact the other powers and let them know the who, what, where, when, how and whys of your disclosure plans once you have them. In the meantime let the public know that there was a battle in orbit, let them know that we have the ability to fight back even if that means putting the _Prometheus_ and the _Normandy_ in front of a hundred cameras and most importantly, make the public aware that with the defeat of Anubis' forces, the likelihood of another attack in the near future is minimal, which is the truth."

"Opinions?" asked the president of the other people in the room.

"He's correct sir," replied Joshua after a moment. "Let's contact the governments of Canada, Great Britain, Japan, Australia and Germany and get them to put their support behind us publicly. They all know about the Stargate and they've all supported our actions in the past so long as we allow them to participate. As for France, Russia, China and India, well, let's keep them informed. They may try to use the Stargate against us in effort to wrest control away from the Air Force. As for the rest of the world, let's begin an evacuation of all non-essential personnel in our embassies and issue travel advisories. And yeah, let's put _Prometheus_ in front of the networks and start doing television interviews to reassure the public that we're not under an impending threat."

"I'd also recommend making the public aware of some of the benefits the Stargate has already had to the world," continued Carter. "Cures in development for diseases, advancements in computer science, medicine, metallurgy, power generation and other fields. Let them know that while we've been keeping secrets, we've also been working to improve the lives of the people; again a completely true fact."

"What about a televised address by the president?" asked Hammond. "That'd have a major impact."

"Not until we get our message down and not until my speechwriters have written one hell of a speech," replied Hayes. "This'll be one of the most important events in American history no matter the results. We have to get it right because the consequences of getting it wrong are too terrible it imagine."

"Sir, I'd also recommend we contact the Asgard," added Carter. "We already need their help with Colonel O'Neill and they may be able to offer some insights into our situation. They may even be able to aid us in disclosure. After all Thor made one hell of an impression on the ambassadors during our disclosure a year and a half ago. Maybe if we put him on network news it'll have the same impact."

"And I want to know where the hell they were," added Maynard angrily. "We are a part of the 'Protected Planets Treaty'. Where the hell was our protection?"

"He makes a good point," added Joshua. "From the reports I've already read, we've aided their race a number of times. I think that they owe us an explanation at the very least."

"Very well, contact the Asgard as soon as possible. We all owe Colonel O'Neill and he doesn't deserve to be left frozen in a box. Also have Doctor Weir return to Washington for the time being. For the time being all exploratory and combat operations through the Stargate are suspended with the exception of emergency situations and of course contacting the Asgard. We'll get through this people. Let's get to it. Dismissed. General Hammond, Major Carter, Commander Shepard, Doctor Jackson please stay behind."

After everyone else had filed out of the room, the president turned to the remaining group. "I'd like the four of you to remain in D.C. for the time being. I have the feeling I'm going to need your help over the next little while. I know that I can order some of you to stay, but…"

"Don't worry sir," interrupted General Hammond. "I think I speak for all of us when I say that I'd be an honor. Besides, we've had the most experience with this sort of thing. But I do have a concern."

"What is it?"

"Your vice president. I don't mean to slander the man…"

"I already know what I need to know about him. I got the disk a few days ago from Richard Woolsey. Add to that the problems he caused before the battle and the act of cowardice during it at the SGC he's toast. I've already asked for his resignation."

"Thank you sir."

"No thank you. Without you we've been goners a long time ago."

* * *

_CNN Center_

_January 29, 2004_

_Atlanta, Georgia_

"Good evening, I'm Sandra Pollex, CNN News. With us tonight is recently promoted Lieutenant-Colonel Samantha Carter, a senior officer in the United States Air Force, daughter of retired Air Force General Jacob Carter and noted astrophysicist, and Doctor Daniel Jackson, a civilian consultant to the US Air Force and archeologist specializing in ancient Egypt. Welcome."

"Thank you Sandra," said Carter, slightly uncomfortable on camera.

"Good to be here," added Daniel, more at ease.

"So let's get straight to the question everyone wants to know. What happened four days ago in orbit? Obviously you were involved somehow."

"Yes, me and my team were sent to another world to recover a power source for an alien weapons system that is located in Antarctica," began Carter. "We arrived shortly before the orbital nuclear strike against three enemy vessels launched from the _USS Pennsylvania_ and from Warren Air Force Base in Wyoming and were caught in the middle of a large air battle between US Air Force and Navy jets and alien fighters while drilling through the glacier to get to the weapon."

"Now what can you tell us about the enemy we face?"

"They are called the Goa'uld," began Daniel. "They originally came to Earth sometime around eight thousand BC when one of their number, a being named Ra, entered our solar system fleeing his enemies. He took a young Egyptian boy as a host and discovered that humans were an ideal match for his race."

"So these Goa'uld are some sort of body snatchers?"

"They're parasites. When they enter your body, they take full control. You are aware of everything around you but have no control over your actions. Like being a prisoner in your own body. Anyway, over the next five thousand or so years, the Goa'uld controlled our world posing as gods from various religions. Eventually the primitive peoples of the time rose up against him and forced him off world. Though there is more to it, I cannot reveal it for the moment but you will be hearing the full story over the next few months."

"Now that brings up a good point. Why has all this been kept secret?"

"When we first gained the ability to go to other worlds, we did so without any knowledge of what was out there," explained Carter with a pained expression on her face. "It was felt at the time that if we were to reveal the existence of aliens to the world without the ability to defend ourselves, it would lead to major civil unrest and could even spark another world war. As we have seen over the last few days our fears were mostly justified."

"Yes there have been several incidents over the past few days. Unrest in most major nations."

"It's actually worse than that Sandra," said Daniel. "We're beginning to see major problems in a number of nations. Rioting is taking place across the entire world and several smaller governments, mostly in Africa and the Middle East are experiencing major instability. Worldwide financial markets have taken a major hit and international politics have become quite dicey."

"There have been a number of announcements by those governments haven't there?"

"Yes, most of the world's governments were made aware of our space exploration and ships beginning approximately a year and a half ago. As seen by their statements of support, the nations of Canada, Great Britain, Japan, Australia and Germany have placed their support behind the United States. But of course our rivals have their own agendas and we shouldn't expect anything else. However this topic is best left to someone more experienced than I am in politics."

"Very well Doctor Jackson. Let's talk about those ships. Photos and videos from numerous sources have shown that we do in fact have interstellar warships," the anchor began, images of the _Prometheus, Normandy_ and the captured Ha'tak appearing behind them. "What can you tell us?"

"For the past four years, the Air Force has been designing and constructing a vessel that could directly combat our enemies. This vessel is called the _Prometheus_ or the X-303. It's the blocky vessel seen in the photo on the left. The second vessel, _Normandy_ is not a vessel belonging to the Air Force but is in fact from the future."

"Wait, you're saying time travel is possible," Sandra asked incredulously.

"Yes indeed. We ourselves have had several experiences with it over the years including a trip back to 1969, shortly after the Apollo 11 landings. The _Normandy_ comes from the year 2183 and from an alternate universe. Due to an accident she was stranded here and was instrumental to the defeat of the Goa'uld attack."

"So will they be leaving in the near future?"

"Not for a while. The technology their ship employs is very different from our own. Their drives are nowhere near as efficient and are much slower than ours. As such for the foreseeable future she's more or less stuck in system. However in other areas they are far more advanced than we are and in exchange for our technology, they have agreed to provide us with their own."

"Speaking of technologies, when will we begin seeing some of these alien advancements released to the public?"

"You already have actually. Several breakthroughs in the past few years can be directly attributed to our study of alien technologies, especially in the areas of medicine, computing and energy production. However there is a danger in releasing too much too fast."

"How so colonel?"

"Well first of all, if some of these technologies were misused then they could make the nuclear weaponry of the cold war look insignificant in terms of the damage they could cause. It could also cause massive disruptions to our economies and industries. The technologies we've recovered could make tens of millions of jobs obsolete practically overnight. Look," Sam began with a sigh, "I know that people want their transporters and flying cars but the fact of the matter is that we as a society are not prepared to have all these things dumped in our laps en-mass. It doesn't mean that these systems and devices won't be made public, but we need time to integrate them into our society properly. Also there's a logistical issue as well."

"What do you mean?"

"A significant amount of the alien technology requires materials that while naturally occurring cannot be found on Earth or in our solar system."

"So we have mining facilities on other worlds?"

"Dozens actually, most of which are small scale. Without these materials, even if we released the schematics of most of the technology we've recovered it wouldn't matter, we couldn't build it."

"I see. Well you've certainly given us something to think about. And I'd like to thank both of you for your actions in defending our world. That's all the time we have for this evening. This has been Sandra Pollex speaking with Lieutenant-Colonel Samantha Carter and Doctor Daniel Jackson, CNN News."

The red light of the camera blinked off and the three stood up. Still the reporter could help herself, "Colonel, we really have transporters?"

"We've encountered several forms of matter-teleportation actually."

"Wow, I never thought I'd hear that. You guys must have an incredible job."

"It can be. Other times…," trailed Daniel with a shrug.

* * *

_Stargate Command_

_February 23, 2004_

_Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado_

"Unauthorized off-world activation," shouted the voice of Walter over the PA cutting off Dr. Weir's response to Daniels question. The two stood up and headed for the control room. "I wish I had an answer for you. I'm surprised the Pentagon allowed Colonel Carter and Teal'c to take the scout ship to the Asgard galaxy. As for the international politics, well things are getting bad."

"I've seen the news."

"It's far worse than what's being reported. A few days ago the Russian government tried to blackmail the president into giving them the _Prometheus_. Yesterday Iran made a demand in concert with North Korea to be given full access to the _Normandy_. If it wasn't for our allies, the US might've had to make concessions."

"Yeah they're calling it the Stargate Alliance now aren't they?"

"Canada, the United States, Great Britain, Germany, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, Taiwan and South Korea. Never thought we'd get the Koreans and the Japanese to agree on anything."

"The UN has made you paranoid hasn't is," laughed Daniel as they walked up behind the freakishly efficient sergeant.

"We're receiving a signal. It's a text message," reported Walter, typing away on his console.

"The Goa'uld are texting us now. Man the service fees must be killer," deadpanned Weir as Daniel began reading it over.

"What?" he replied after a moment shaking his head. "This message is from one of the system lords, Camulus. They want to set up a meeting with us."

"Why would he want to meet with us?"

"Not him. The system lords, all of them. They want to negotiate a treaty with us. Here, on Earth."

"I'd better call the president. See what he wants us to do."

"Good idea. This could be big."

* * *

"They want to meet with us and sign a treaty?" asked the president incredulously. "They attack us and then they want to negotiate? What the hell kind of idiots are these people?"

"Sir, it wasn't the system lords that attacked us," replied Weir over the speakerphone. "It was Anubis who they themselves were at war with."

"Does that really matter," asked Joshua from beside Hayes. "Most of them have killed our people at one time or another."

"Mr. President," began Elizabeth, "we're not exactly in a position to decline their request. We still haven't fully recovered from the attack and quite frankly until we do we're vulnerable. If we can negotiate a treaty with them…"

"You're right Doctor. Fine, invite them for this little shindig but don't agree to anything without talking to me first. I also want Commander Shepard there. She's a major factor in Earth current defense strategy and I've come to learn over the past month that she's very good a ferreting out information."

"I'll await her arrival," replied Weir before saying goodbye.

* * *

The Stargate activated with its characteristic whooshing sound, the initial unstable vortex blocked by the Iris. Moments later it retracted and four people stepped out of the event horizon. To Commander Shepard, these people looked like something you'd see at a renaissance festival and she was having trouble keeping a straight face.

The greetings went about as well as she'd expected it to, the arrogance rolling off these 'people' in waves. Once settled around the conference table the maneuvering began, starting with Camulus.

"Your unexpected defeat of Anubis has created an unstable situation among the system lords. In order to avoid open war, we came to an agreement to divide his territories and armies evenly."

"How civilized of you," snarked Jackson; Shepard snorting in agreement.

"Yes. Unfortunately one among us has broken that agreement."

"What a surprise," interjected Jade in a condescending tone, "a Goa'uld that betrayed the rest. I'm shocked."

"It was Baal wasn't it," added Daniel. "He was always the most level headed among you."

"He was able to locate the planet were Anubis was creating his Kull warriors," replied Camulus, unfazed by the insult leveled against his race.

"He was able to access Tartarus?" replied Daniel in a surprised tone. "We were only able to do that using captured Kull armor."

"Yes, he managed to capture the fortress and reprogrammed the Kull to serve him. He now represents a great threat to the galaxy," added Amaterasu, clearly unaware of the irony of her statement.

"In battle, the Kull are far superior to the Jaffa," said Camulus. "Already there has been talk of capitulation among us," shooting Amaterasu a pointed look, "much as they did with Anubis. If that happens, Baal will indeed be unstoppable."

At that Shepard sniggered. These people, aliens, whatever were really unbelievable. The delivery on that last line was like something out of a b-holo. Pure comedy.

Shooting the commander a look, Weir turned to Camulus and shrugged. "While this is all very interesting, I fail to see why we should care. We have weaponry that can efficiently defeat the Kull warriors and if Anubis couldn't conquer Earth, why would his former lackey have more of a chance?"

Gesturing to his First Prime, Oshu and whispering, Yu finally entered the conversion, Oshu speaking on his behalf. "My master wishes to say, it is well known the Tau'ri possess a powerful new weapon, something far beyond their current level of technology."

"Weapons; plural," interjected Shepard. "We have weapons."

"We used them to kill Anubis, destroyed most of his fleet and captured the rest."

"You managed to acquire one of his Ha'tak?" asked Amaterasu clearly surprised.

"Not one, eight," replied Shepard with a grin. "More than a quarter of the fleet he sent against us is now under our control. No Al'kesh or gliders but then again they're pretty pathetic to begin with. Point of fact, we now control as many warships as some of you do."

This clearly shocked the three Goa'uld. None of them had managed to acquire any of the renegade system lord's vessels over the course of dozens of battles. Now the Tau'ri were claiming to have a good chunk of his fleet.

"How," demanded Yu, clearly enraged by the prospect of the power these upstarts now possessed.

"That's for us to know and you to not find out," replied Shepard evenly. "Why should we share our tactics with people who'd just as soon see us dead as negotiate with us?"

"You make a good point. Still with the weaponry at your command, you could prevent Baal from becoming a threat to the rest of the galaxy," said Camulus, trying to steer the conversation back around to a more advantageous topic. This planet had just become a much greater threat then he initially believed it to be. "If Baal defeats us, how long do you think it'll be before he turns his forces against you?"

"If he does he'll suffer the same fate as Anubis," replied Weir dismissively, "only faster now that we have more ships."

"Perhaps, but there are other worlds in this galaxy without the luxury of such advanced defenses," replied Amaterasu.

"What are you talking about," replied Jackson.

"We could not help but notice that the Asgard did not come to aid when Anubis threatened your planet. In fact we've heard nothing from the Asgard for quite some time now."

"Funny, we talk to them all the time," replied Daniel nervously before smiling at the snug bitch. "We could arrange a meeting between you and them if you want, you know, an O'Neill class battlecruiser blowing the crap out of a few of your worlds for the system lord's violation of the Protected Planets Treaty."

"We did not attack you!" shouted Yu.

"I don't remember reading anywhere in the treaty about it making a difference which Goa'uld it was," replied Daniel smugly. "In fact, part of the treaty states that the Goa'uld system lords will prevent any Goa'uld from attacking a protected planet even through the use of force. Failure to take the necessary actions constitutes a violation. Now last time I checked Anubis was a Goa'uld…"

"Besides, we informed the Asgard that their services were not required and to protect the other planets should any of you try and take this opportunity to attack any of them. We didn't need their assistance in defending Earth," added Weir, "something we demonstrated quite spectacularly."

"Baal believes otherwise. He is convinced that the Asgard can no longer exercise power in this galaxy and intends to take the planets protected under the treaty for himself."

"If you do not help us stop him," added Camulus, "millions of humans will die and millions more will be enslaved."

"Perhaps a short recess is in order," interjected Shepard, "while we consider your words."

"Agreed," replied Camulus, clearly the leader of this meeting.

The three Terrans quickly adjourned to Weir's office while the system lords sampled the dubious delights of the hors d'oeuvres laid out for their benefit.

"How many planets are protected under this treaty," asked Shepard, unaware of its existence.

"Twenty six; twenty seven if you include Earth," replied Daniel after thinking it over for a second. "What's more, several of the worlds are comparable to Earth in terms of technology and industrialization, a problem if a Goa'uld gets his hands on them."

"And what good is it if the Asgard aren't actually able to protect anything," asked Weir.

"At one time they were. More recently we've been trading on the threat, kind of a big bluff."

"Wonderful," replied Shepard. "We don't have the forces to cover twenty six other worlds. Hell most of our fleet is still damaged including the _Normandy_. Never thought I'd miss the Turian fleets."

"So what do we do?" asked Weir after a second. "Baal's about to call our bluff. We can defend Earth somewhat for the moment but what about those other worlds?"

"Let's go on the offensive in there," replied Jade with a grin. "They clearly want something, otherwise they wouldn't be here. Their technology is unimportant now, not with what I'm giving you and what you already have from the ships we captured. Still, let's see what they have to offer us in exchange for our services."

"Services?" asked Weir.

"They want us to fight their battles for them. That's the only thing they believe we bring to the table. Now from what I see we're going to have to deal with Baal anyway, might as well get paid for it."

"She makes a good point," added Daniel. "From our first contact with them, we knew that there couldn't be a permanent peace with the Goa'uld. We just have to cut them down to size and deal with the pieces one by one. Baal is the biggest threat so…"

"Right, ok let's go in there and see what they're offering."

The three reentered the room and retook their seats. "We appreciate the intelligence you've shared with us but it doesn't change the fact that we cannot and will not become involved in what is by definition an internal Goa'uld dispute. And if Baal tries to attack any of the protected planets he'll suffer the consequences."

"Unfortunately we do not share your faith in the Asgard. We must stop Baal before it comes to that," replied Camulus bluntly.

"Well you've forgive my bluntness but that's not our problem."

Slamming his hand down on the table, Yu shouted out, "enough! With each passing moment, Anubis grows more powerful," drawing odd looks from everyone in the room.

"You mean Baal, right," replied Daniel after a long awkward pause.

Stepping in Oshu, "my master is fatigued. We request a short adjournment…"

"Silence! I need no adjournment," Yu interrupted.

After a moment Camulus continued, "We know you have a formidable new defensive weapons and some limited offensive capability. However at the moment you must wait for your enemies to come to you and that can be dangerous."

"Ok, let's cut to the chase. What do you want and what are you asking for," replied Shepard, not one for diplomatic bull-shit and fighting an impulse to fling one of these arrogant pricks across the room with her biotics.

"We wish for you to attack Baal with your new weaponry. We are offering hyperdrive engines in exchange."

"We know you have battleships that are not capable of interstellar travel," began Amaterasu. "With only a limited number of captured Ha'tak, your ability to strike beyond your system is constrained."

"We are offering you the means of producing a fleet of ships as advanced as our Ha'taks here in your own system. You could take the fight to the enemy."

"No thanks," replied Weir simply.

That certainly confused the system lords. "You would be able to uphold the protected planets treaty with or without the Asgard," argued Camulus.

"Why should we fight your battles in exchange for an inferior version of a technology we already possess?"

"You have viable hyperdrive technology," asked Camulus, clearly surprised.

"Our warships have had a hyperdrive since their earliest designs," replied Daniel. "One based off a modified Al'kesh design. Not only are our drive designs faster and more energy efficient than what you're offering but our drives are compact enough to fit into a fighter."

"That's not possible," stuttered Amaterasu. "How could you accomplish that, the power requirements are too high."

"That's classified information," replied Shepard with a grin. "Though we can tell you that not only are they hyperspace capable but they are also shielded and capable of much higher acceleration then one of your ugly little death gliders. And properly equipped they can even destroy a Ha'tak in small numbers. So thanks for the offer by no thank you."

Thinking for a moment Camulus prepared another offer. "How about plasma cannons? We know that you are reliant on crude missiles for space combat. With plasma weaponry your ships will become much more capable."

"Sorry, our particle cannon designs easily match your plasma cannons. Granted they produce slightly more waste heat but they have a longer range, faster projection velocity and greater rate of fire. And they're more compact. And don't even get me started on our Thanix cannons," replied the Specter with a feral grin.

"Oh yeah, I saw the gun camera footage of those," continued Daniel, playing along. "That was the one that blew the entire side off a Ha'tak in one shot wasn't it?"

"Well after we disrupted its shields with a few disruptor torpedoes. After that it pretty much lost its entire shield grid and we shattered it with a round from our mass accelerator."

The exchange was getting more and more worrisome to the Goa'uld. Though they didn't know that a 'Thanix cannon' or 'mass accelerator' was, the description of the power of the weapons was making them more than a little nervous. What's more, Camulus was running out of suggestions.

"What about naquadah? We know that it is as important to your technology as it is to ours," he suggested.

"Actually we don't really need that. We already have off-world mining operations and quite frankly they're not only far more productive than your own, what with us using technology instead of slave labor, but we actually have to thank Anubis for our current surplus as well. You see a few years back he hurled an asteroid filled with the stuff at our planet. Obviously we avoided the impact and the asteroid has been floating though the system ever since, well at least until a week ago when we used a pair of our captured Ha'tak to stabilize it and relocated it to our oort cloud. We've actually just started construction a permanent mining facility on the surface so…," replied Daniel with a shrug.

"How about trinium?"

"We have plenty thanks," rejected Weir. "Look if you're not willing to offer something we actually need then we have no reason to fight Baal for you. We'll just wait until he's defeated you and in doing so weakened himself and then sweep away what's left. Unless of course you can swallow your pride and ally with him and really, we all know that isn't going to happen."

Camulus was at a loss. The Tau'ri were a growing threat to the Goa'uld and they couldn't afford to ignore them any longer. They were here to try and neutralize that threat for the time being with a treaty but things weren't going well. What's more, it was at all possible that with Anubis' attack the Asgard might begin sharing their technology with Earth making them a considerably greater threat.

"What do you want?" asked Yu suddenly, startling everyone in the room. Apparently he wasn't as over the hill as everyone believed.

Weir wasn't really prepared for the question but Shepard came to the rescue. "Let's start with designating all territory within one hundred light years of Earth as our territory. This includes all planets, moons, resources and Stargates. Also there are several systems throughout the galaxy that we want including…," nudging Daniel next to her.

"Right. Let's start with Tollana. Though the Tollan have been destroyed, we don't like the idea of you scavenging the remains. Also the planet Langara, one of our allies. They were attacked by Anubis last year and quite frankly we don't want to see it happen again."

"Also the Serpent Nebula," added Shepard suddenly. She wasn't sure if there was a citadel in this reality but if there was then she wanted to ensure it, and by extension the mass relays remained under Earth's control. This request drew odd looks from the rest of the people in the room but no comments.

Camulus shrugged. If the humans wanted a giant cloud of gas so be it. "And in exchange you'll agree to use your new weapons against Baal," he asked hopefully.

"In exchange for the territories listed as well as several other worlds, mostly former Goa'uld worlds now inhabited by humans. We will provide you a list but no more than twenty," replied Daniel. This was going too well. Either the system lords had no intentions of honoring their agreements or they must really be desperate. "One of those worlds is Tartarus. No offense but once we capture that planet you're not getting it back. Not with its ability to produce Kull warriors."

"So the Tau'ri would instead possess those abominations to use against us," replied Amaterasu in a hostile tone.

"If necessary. However we don't really need them. Though their armor is pretty nice," replied Daniel with a shrug.

"I will present your demands to the rest of the council," replied Camulus.

"I'll also have to confer with my leadership however I believe they will agree to the terms proposed here," replied Weir.

"Very well, take me to the Stargate," said Camulus, standing up and following the one of the marine guards down the spiral staircase while Shepard, Weir and Daniel returned to the diplomat's office. Picking up the red phone and putting it on speakerphone they waited to be connected.

"Dr. Weir," said the President over the line. "I'm here with General Maynard and Hammond. What have you got?"

"We've met with the system lords and have hammered out an agreement. In exchange for us attacking and eliminating Baal, who apparently has been causing some trouble in the power vacuum left from Anubis' defeat, they have agreed to cede control of all territory within a hundred light years of Earth to our control along with twenty two worlds, most of them allies along with the remains of Tollana and Tartarus should we be able to capture it. They've also agreed to cede the Serpent Nebula to our control."

"Doctor Weir, you'll have to forgive me. I haven't had a chance to go through all the files yet," replied Hayes.

"Yes sir. Daniel if you would."

"Right. Tollana is a planet formerly inhabited by a group of humans called the Tollan. To our knowledge they were the most advanced human race in the galaxy bar none."

"Were?" asked Maynard.

"Yes sir. They were attacked and destroyed by one of Anubis' underlings approximately two and a half years ago. Though we don't know if there are any survivors or indeed anything left to salvage, the world is still quite important and we cannot let the remaining system lords take control in case there is something left. Their technology was simply too advanced."

"George do you agree," asked Hayes.

"Yes mister president. The same with Langara, which I assume was on the list Dr. Jackson."

"Yes sir. It made sense and we cannot let their naquadria fall into the Goa'uld's hands."

"What about that nebula?" asked Maynard.

"That was actually Commander Shepard's addition. I'm not sure myself," replied Weir.

"Mr. President, in my reality the Serpent Nebula is the home of the Citadel, a massive space station. It is the center of the Citadel Government and recently we've learned the control center for the mass relays. Now we've already confirmed that there is a relay berried in Charon in this reality just as there was in mine and if so there's a good chance there's a Citadel too. If we can take control of it we gain a massive tactical advantage."

"I see," replied Hayes after a moment. "I agree, from what you've told me controlling that network could be incredibly useful. So does anyone disagree with this proposal?" No one spoke up. "Very well. Doctor Weir, you are clear to go with the agreement as is. My only concern is that the Goa'uld won't honor it."

"Mister President, I agree with you," began Daniel, "however so long as Baal is a threat they won't turn against us. That buys us time to build up our fleet and defenses. When they do turn against us we'll be able to hold them back far better than we can now."

"I agree," added Maynard. "We need time; time to deal with our problems here on Earth and time to ready our forces. This gives us that time."

"Right, get to it Doctor Weir. We're counting on you."


	6. Chapter Five Fifths Horsemen

**Chapter Five – Fifth's Horsemen**

_CIC_

_February 24, 2004_

_SSV Normandy_

As she watched the holographic schematics floating before her, Tali couldn't help but feel a profound sense of pride. As a Quarian, spacecraft, both their design and operation was as close to her heart as family. Not that she had a family left. While the migrant fleet might have forgiven her, legally at least after Shepard embarrassed the shit out of the admiralty board, she still hadn't forgiven them. They had used her relationship with her father and her years of dedicated service to the fleet as a political stepping stool. Even her aunt hadn't been immune to their machinations.

She had heard a human word for the kind of maneuvering that was taking place amongst the highest levels of the Quarian government: Realpolitik. When she looked it up, she couldn't help but see its meaning reflected in her people's leadership. Idealism and morals had been replaced by Machiavellian backstabbing and influence pedaling. And it had come at the worst possible time because the Reapers and the Geth wouldn't forgive any missteps they might make.

She shook her head at that thought. Regardless of her problems and the problems of her people, today was a time of celebration. She was young and as such, while highly respected as a scientist had never had the opportunity to take part in designing a space craft before; something reserved for only the eldest and most respected among her people. So as the data danced before her, diagnostics, data tables, power utilization curves; she could almost make out her soul in the numbers and statistics. She had spent the last month working on this project and in a way it felt not like a simple machine but as if she had given a part of herself to it. And for the first time it was something that she had wanted to do, not something she had felt compelled to do for the 'greater good'. It was a feeling she was becoming accustomed to whenever she was with Jade, something that ironically could only be found when she was among aliens.

"So, how's it looking," asked Shepard as she walked up behind her.

"All system diagnostics show green Commander. We are as prepared as we possibly could be."

"Good. Needless to say, there are a lot of people looking forward to this performance," replied the specter, patting Tali on the back, something that the Quarian wished she could feel without the cumbersome and burdensome presence of her environmental suit; something that she hoped she would find a solution to in this new reality.

"Yes indeed," interjected Garrus as he entered the room from the armory. He had been one of the key members of the project from the beginning. The battle against Anubis had shown that while innovative and remarkable adaptable; the SGC's spacecraft were in desperate need of improvement. With the massive database at their disposal, both from the near complete copy of the extranet cached in the Normandy's quantum computer core and the classified data that EDI had stored within her database, a select team had set out to remake this Earth's space forces into something that their enemies would fear. And they had chosen to start with their smallest spacecraft first. And so the F-302B Scimitar project was born.

Tali's thoughts were interrupted by an incoming comm from the fighter in question. "Normandy, this is Scimitar Prime. Do you copy?"

"We're receiving you five by five Colonel Mitchell," replied Garrus, the image of the human popping up on a secondary holo. "What's your status?"

Inside the prototype fighter, which was currently sitting in the Normandy's small hanger bay, Mitchell took one look around him and then snorted, looking back to the image of the Turian displayed on his HUD. "Hell Garrus, you probably know my status better than me. But for your peace of mind I can confirm there aren't any blinking lights, smoke, sparks, odd noises, well unusual odd anyway or burning odors coming from this thing. So I'm good to go."

"Good to know," interjected Shepard with a somewhat sinister laugh. "We just finished repairing the holes in the shuttle bay."

"Gee, all this concern for my well being is making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside," parried Cameron. Sometimes the people on this ship worried him, all humor aside. Still this was a once in a lifetime opportunity; a chance to learn from actual people from the future.

Cameron had been honored with an assignment to the Normandy for his service during the Antarctic battle. Even though most of the enemy fighters had been taken out during the spaceborne portion of the battle, there were still hundreds flying about, down from thousands at the beginning of the battle. He'd managed to down twenty seven of the little gull-winged bastards along with two Al'kesh bombers before he'd been shot down. He'd thought his injuries would've taken months to recover from but the miracles the Normandy's medical bay preformed on his broken body had him fully recovered in three days.

And now here he was.

The small fighter sat under the banks of florescent lighting that covered the ceiling of the shuttle bay, their harsh white light scattering off the Scimitar's paint, seemingly constantly shifting colors until it settled for a dark, matte grey color; the adaptive camouflage control system completing its self diagnostic. When active, the advanced smart paint, which also served as a RADAR absorbent material could blend in with its environment, making visual targeting next to impossible. It was technology fifteen years in the making, supercharged by advanced computer equipment from the Normandy.

"Well so long as there aren't any problems with the fighter," sniggered Tali as she began entering commands into her terminal. "Initiating start up sequence. Bringing reactor online."

Data began scrolling down the massive holo, various parts of the fighter changing from blue indicating standby to green for active. For the duration of the test, the fighter's systems would be operated and monitored remotely until Tali was satisfied they were fully operational, at which point they'd be handed off to the Scimitar's VI. It was a protocol developed over generations of ship design and construction, used by races across their galaxy.

"Roger that. Confirming reactor startup," replied Mitchell as he felt the slight hum of the active reactor. It was hard to believe the fighter's power plant, barely the size of an average dog, was currently putting out enough energy to power New York City during the hottest days of summer and was still increasing its output. "Naquadah/helium-3 hybrid fusion reactor at fifty percent nominal and climbing."

"Confirmed, initiating anti-proton thruster startup procedures. Helium-3 fuel transfer system activating. Magnetic containment coming online and is now active. Thrust vectoring nozzle servos confirm no faults. Element zero core control system initializing. Mass effect field at one hundred percent of nominal output," read Tali as she watched each system come online sequentially.

The air around the fighter shimmered for a moment as the dark energy based gravity control field rose to surround it. The forward bay door began opening, a twisting kinetic barrier keeping the atmosphere contained. The small fighter lifted off with tiny puffs from its maneuvering thrusters, the advanced ionic designs based on Hebridan technology providing a drastic improvement in both miniaturization and output over the primitive reaction control system the original F-302A used. A stuttering glow emanated from the twin engine nacelles, the anti-proton thrusters slowly throttling up, easing the fighter out of the bay, a trail of glittering particles following in its wake; the spent hadrons that were all that remained of the radiation and matter that was being mutually annihilated to provide forward motive power.

"I am free flying Normandy," reported Mitchell, the light from the holographic interface reflecting off both his helmet's faceplate his teeth underneath as he grinned. For Cameron, being assigned as the test pilot of the new Scimitar was a dream come true. When he'd been introduced to the original and unnamed F-302A, he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. The 'A' was such a revolutionary step forward in fighter design that it made the F-22 he'd been flying not five days earlier look like something out of the Second World War by comparison. He honestly didn't think anything could top to oddly shaped space fighter, at least not in his lifetime. Then he'd met Tali'Zorah and the rest of her wacky team.

Physically the Scimitar looked like what one would get if they'd merged components from the Normandy with the original F-302A. Gone was the awkward engine assembly that dominated the rear of the 'A', replaced with a pair of scaled down versions of the Normandy's engine nacelles integrated seamlessly into the airframe, placed just outside the wing roots in a way that was reminiscent of the RAF's Gloster Meteor from the forties.

The engines were actually longer than the fighter itself; the forward vectored counter-thrusters falling only a quarter meter short of the nose while the rear thruster nozzles continued a full meter past the end of the fuselage. Extending down the outsides of the forward engine housings were the fighter's twin micro Thanix cannons, designed to give the fighter a heavy secondary armament on par with that of an Al'kesh, while a slight bulge on the bottom of the wings at their roots indicated the location of the pulse laser cannons she carried as her main armament, identical to what Systems Alliance fighters carried.

"So am I clear to take this thing through its paces," questioned the eager pilot like a child on Christmas day. There was some debris ahead that looked like a suitable obstacle course.

"One thing at a time colonel," replied the amused Turian over the comm. "First let's test out your defenses. I would hate to lose the prototype to some high speed shrapnel during your fun," the Turian laughed before continuing after a few seconds, "Oh and we'd miss you too."

"Oh gee, thanks Garrus," replied Cameron with a grin, the equivalent crossing the scarred features of the alien. They were developing a strong if rather strange friendship. "Activating defenses," continued the pilot as he entered the commands into the pseudo-tangible holographic console before him. That was one of the things that took some getting used to. He was used to buttons and joysticks and the entirely holographic interface was just plain weird at first. Now he loved it and couldn't help but pity other pilots still using the old systems. It was just so intuitive and adaptive, almost as if it could read his thoughts.

Around the fighter, a yellow glow appeared, sweeping over the small yellowish craft from front to back before disappearing again. This was followed by a bluish shimmering a moment later as the kinetic barriers activated over the shields, the two systems designed to work in tandem to provide additional protection. Combined with the new, more advanced hyper dense Silaris-B trinium/naquadah/carbon/diamond ablative armor and the VI operated adaptive electronic warfare suite, the Scimitar was going to be a hard target to detect, never mind hit or damage. "So are my defenses working yet or what?"

"Patience colonel," replied Shepard, grinning like a maniac, "we will know in a moment. Activating point defenses."

"WHAT?" screamed the Air Force pilot moments before a bright red pulse of energy leapt from the Normandy's hull and slammed into the small fighter, the yellow energy shield shimmering as it absorbed and reflected the laser's energy away. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?"

"Well it worked didn't it?" roared Garrus; hands gripped tight on his console so as to avoid falling over from the intensity of his laughter. "Looks like the system works fine. Shields are holding at eighty nine percent and regenerating. No damage. You should be impressed; a similar pulse would've ripped a death glider apart with ease."

"Never do that again! Ever! So am I clear to go or not," replied Mitchell indignantly. He had to admit, it was a pretty impressive demonstration, even if he'd almost wet himself.

"Yes colonel, go ahead," interjected Tali, barely keeping her own laughter down. "We'll start with the maneuvering systems then the weapons. Fortunately we have plenty of targets available."

"Yeah, ain't that special," replied Cameron, flicking the throttle to full power. He dove straight into the debris field; the four thrust vectoring nozzles spewing spent fuel, the dozens of tiny ionic thrusters sparking as the aircraft span and weaved through the dense debris cloud. Every now and then a small bit of junk, even the occasional section of a destroyed fighter would contact his barriers, the bluish field punting them away without effort.

In the distance he could make out the mangled wreck of Anubis' command ship, the massive disk shaped monstrosity broken, scared and drifting. It was a testament to the engineering that even a small portion of the warship remained intact; hundreds of the Ancient's plasma drones having burrowed their way through its thick armor and hull before detonating. The massive gashes in its hull were still leaking radiation from its colossal reactor, even a month after the battle, turning the area around the wreck into a massive navigational hazard and, at least in Cameron's view, the perfect testing ground for his defenses.

"Be advised Colonel, you're entering an area of increased radiation," commented his VI, the generic form of a small, glowing woman serving as its avatar, vaguely reminding him of Cortana from Halo, if nowhere near as attractive. 'Focus Mitchell,' he reprimanded himself, 'test flight now. Drooling over hot fictional babes later.'

The clicking of the simulated Geiger counter filled the cockpit with its ominous sound. Around him his shield began sparking, the dense ionizing radiation impacting the electromagnetic force field and causing it to glow softly. Glancing at his shield monitor, he noticed the bar dropping, but only slowly.

Having passed though the field, he reversed course and gunning his aft thrusters, quickly canceled his forward momentum before taking off in another direction. "So am I cleared to test my weapons yet?"

"Affirmative Colonel," replied Tali, impressed by the resilience of the energy shielding against the extreme levels of lethal radiation; ordinarily requiring meters of dense armor to block. If they could get this technology back to their home universe it would make element zero mining a far, far safer endeavor.

"I'm designating some targets for you," commented Shepard from one of the auxiliary terminals. "Feel free to let yourself have some fun."

"Hell yeah, opening fire!"

* * *

_Situation Room_

_Chkalovsk Naval Air Base_

_Kaliningrad, Russian Federation_

The room was silent as the assembled men watched the flight of the Scimitar on the large plasma monitor on one of the walls. Chkalovsk had seen better days, much like mother Russia herself. During the Cold War, it had been one of the largest military bases in the entire Soviet Union, second only to a few bases near Moscow, Saint Petersburg and Volgograd, then known as Stalingrad.

These days Chkalovsk was a shadow of its former self. Long gone were the mighty bombers and the wings of fighters, barely a third of their number gracing the snowy runways. The buildings were weathered and beaten, the result of too much snow and too little maintenance money. It was emblematic of the entirety of the nation; faded glory.

The large fighter danced on the screen, the image grainy and monochromatic, relayed from an old Soviet spy satellite that had been pushed well past its retirement date. Still it showed enough. It showed that while the Americans and the rest of their former enemies were gaining strength, Russia was falling behind at an ever increasing rate.

"Impressive," commented one of the military officers, Dmitri Chekov, Russia's liaison to the SGC. With the strained relations with the Americans there days, it was not a job many people envied and even fewer wanted.

"Indeed," replied General Miraslov Kiselev, his thick glasses serving to emphasize the worry his eyes betrayed. With fighters like those, Russia would be nearly defenseless should things take a turn for the worse in international relations. "To think they could develop it so quickly."

They watched as the Scimitar began shredding the orbiting debris with its pulse lasers, the blood red beams impacting like explosive bullets. Even more impressive was the light blue beams of the Thanix cannons which didn't so much as impact as slice into their targets. Or the modular turreted railgun, a technology that had been decades beyond any of Earth's nations before the Stargate.

They watched as the Scimitar opened up with its missiles, the forward side launch bays each spitting four missiles before closing, their ionic engines leaving a bluish contrail in their wakes. These were followed up for a full salvo from the twin rotary bays in the fighter's belly, each spitting six medium range missiles at various targets, the fighter's entire compliment spent in under four seconds.

"I think we've seen enough," commented the man at the head of the table, President Josef Mikhailov. "The question is what do we do in response."

No one really knew what to do about the growing threat that the western nations and their proposed 'Stargate Alliance' represented. They wanted Russia strong and they wanted a future for their nation among the stars. But the reality was that they wouldn't be able to dictate terms to America and her allies anymore.

The men, senior military officers and bureaucrats and most importantly, all loyal to the president, simply looked at their notes, as if the Cyrillic they had scrawled there would grant them some wisdom. In the end if came to their most junior member to say what they had all concluded in the privacy of their minds but were too afraid to say out loud.

"We need to follow the Americans," said Chekov quietly.

At that Mikhailov just sighed. "You're right. I don't see us as having a choice." It wasn't that he thought the path the west was taking was incorrect or flawed. But half a century of mutual animosity and propaganda had become ingrained in the Russian psyche. And all that propaganda told people that America was always wrong, that they were to be feared and pitied, not respected or imitated. Added to the fact that America's industrial and economic might had been what had plunged one of the world's two superpowers into the sorry state it was now, rife with corruption, exploitation and poverty didn't help either. Still…

"Our attempts at blackmail will not make this path an easy one to follow," commented Pioter Popov, the president's chief of staff.

"We didn't have a choice," responded the president. It had been an ill advised action to say the least but one he had to take to satisfy elements of his government; the ones with money, power and ties to the Russian Mafia. Had he not his life and the life of his family would've been in danger. "But you're right. I also think we should begin distancing ourselves from the Chinese. I don't see them coming to the same conclusions we are."

"Indeed," continued Kiselev, "the People's Republic has become far too arrogant over the last decade for my taste. They think themselves a world power when they are little more than a regional bully. And my own intelligence is showing increasing instability within their party leadership over what some are viewing as the mishandling of their response to disclosure."

That opinion was one they all shared. Getting in bed with the Chinese had not really appealed to any of them. Their relationship with China hadn't ever really recovered after their nation's mutual falling out during the fifties. And though none of them wanted to admit it, the more liberal, free nation that Russia had become after the collapse of the Union, even with all its problems, was something none of them were willing to give up upon for a return to communism. Nor did they want to associate too closely with another communist nation.

"So we are agreed then," concluded Mikhailov, "we approach the Americans and ask to be included in this new alliance of theirs."

"Yes," began Chekov, "but not too quickly. If we suddenly turn about-face, it will only make them suspicious of our intentions. I think a better course of action would be to slowly improve relations with them over the next few years, slowly becoming an unofficial member of the Alliance before we actually join. We prove ourselves to be honorable while at the same time we begin rooting out elements within our own government that run contrary to our plans."

It would not be an easy plan and there was a serious chance that some of them might die because of it. But in the final analysis, they were sure that history would look upon them kindly, because the other options were simply unacceptable.

* * *

_Command Theater_

_The Pentagon_

_Maryland, Virginia_

General Maynard was fighting the nearly overwhelming urge to gape. While a member of the Army himself, he didn't share the kind of dislike that most of his service had towards the Air Force, a relic of their split from the Army after the Second World War. And at the moment he felt a wave of unabashed envy.

He'd been more than a little shocked at what the Normandy's crew considered appropriate as a 'test' of the fighter's defenses. Getting hit with enough firepower to cleave an aircraft carrier in half didn't exactly meet testing guidelines. Even more so when the test pilot began zipping though the orbiting debris field at about five thousand kilometers per second, apparently without a care in the world. Most would call him insane after he dove into the massive cloud of radiation from Anubis' flagship's reactor but that he hadn't even felt it…

"Sounds like they're ready to start on the weapons tests," commented Hammond from his seat next to the chairman; having been monitoring the comm channel the test flight was using. Over the past month Maynard had come to rely on Hammond for information and advice on the Stargate and everything related to it.

"This should be quite a show," grinned General Rebecca Hagen, Chief of Staff of the United States Air Force. She was about to continue when the Scimitar opened fire on its first target, a large chunk of debris left over from a Ha'tak. The first weapons test involved the main cannons, the twin pulse lasers. The red beams of coherent infrared energy, visible only because of photonic decay, began stabbing out; dozens of pulses per second ripping into the blackened remains and blowing chunk after chunk out of the ruined spaceship.

"Looks like those things are living up to expectations," commented Admiral Jellico, Chief of Naval Operations. He sounded more than a little put out at the moment, his bid to transfer control of the US' growing space fleet to the Navy having been shot down three days earlier.

"According to the simulations, they're supposed to match the cannons from a death glider shot for shot in terms of energy output," commented Hammond, "but with a higher rate of fire, muzzle velocity and nearly fifteen times the range thanks to the advanced targeting systems.

"I'll admit the Scimitar is pretty impressive," added Admiral Jellico grudgingly, "but it won't be replacing our terrestrial aircraft anytime soon. Hell its wing-span is twice that of one of our Hornets and it weighs nearly four times a fully loaded Raptor. How the hell do you land something like that on an aircraft carrier?"

"Well they can take-off and land vertically and weight doesn't matter thanks to its element zero core so I don't think that'll be that big a problem," replied Hagen with a shrug, ignoring the glower Jellico sent her way. If he wanted to be a sore loser, that was his problem. "Plus they have a top speed of mach eighteen at sea level so the days of aircraft carriers might be coming to an end."

"There go the Thanix cannons," interrupted Hammond, trying to interdict the oncoming verbal battle before it could begin. The twin cannons began firing blue streams of plasmatic ceramic cutting through debris like a hot knife through butter, quickly ripping several large chunks apart. "Those are more powerful than the heavy staff cannons carried by the Al'kesh. I'm surprised that they can be mounted on something as small as a fighter."

"Apparently that was actually their original test platform," replied Maynard. "Something to do with the Turians developing them in secret and frigates being harder to hide than fighters. Personally I'm more interested in the modular heavy weapon bay and the external heavy weapon hard points. Apparently they've already miniaturized our railgun designs to fit in the bay. Hell some of the weapons are even turreted. But what they intend for the other hard points is beyond me."

"Apparently they're designing some large, external heavy cannons based on some of the Normandy's small arms but they're still at least six months off. Now on the other hand the missile systems are just overkill," commented Hammond as he began reading the specifications out loud. "Twin forward short range launchers with four missiles apiece and twin rotary launchers in her belly with six missiles each. That's five times the internal capacity of an F-35."

"Not to mention the ten retractable under wing hard points," continued Hagen with a misty look in her eyes. What she wouldn't have given for one of these things during Desert Storm. "Damned things can mount nearly anything we've ever developed. Bombs, missiles, torpedoes; hell they've even designed missile pods for use in an antifighter role. She can carry up to fifty two medium range missiles at once! I hate to see what they come up with as an encore."

"From what I've heard, their next step will be to begin miniaturizing the existing missile types and creating a missile that can work in both atmosphere and space without the kind of drawbacks we're seeing from the current generation of spaceborne missile's ion engines," replied Hammond, trying to filter through the massive amount of technical jargon that had been thrown at him the day before without the usual assistance he received from Colonel Carter.

"What, micro-missiles," asked Hagen. "We've been trying to design those for years. Putting aside the matter of the propulsion, there's no compound I've heard of that can match the output of the current generation of explosives in such small amounts."

"Not quite true ma'am," replied Hammond. "You're forgetting about naquadah. Aside from amplifying nuclear explosions and its use as a source of energy, it makes one hell of a powerful chemical explosive. More so if you use it in its liquid form."

That brought Hagen up short. She'd only been briefed on naquadah to the point that she knew of its existence. "That's certainly an interesting idea. But isn't it pretty unstable as a liquid?"

"No you're thinking of naquadria. Liquid naquadah is what the Goa'uld use to power their small arms so it has to be pretty stable to survive being thrown around during the kind of melee combat the Jaffa prefer."

"Just how powerful are we talking," asked Jellico, momentarily letting his irritation fade away.

"According to Colonel Carter that depends on how refined it is," began Hammond. "Most Goa'uld naquadah, the solid stuff anyway that they use in construction, power generation and as part of their trinium/naquadah alloys is only refined to about sixty percent purity. Weapons grade is about eighty percent. Liquid is closer to eighty five percent. We on the other hand refine our weapons grade to about ninety seven percent so it's considerably more powerful. From what I've heard, they hope to get it to ninety nine point six percent when they begin manufacturing liquid naq for our use." Consulting his notes George continued. "At that level of purity, our liquid naquadah should have roughly sixteen point four times the explosive power of the current generation of thermite."

"Jesus Christ," exclaimed Maynard. "That's insane. A pound of that stuff could take out a building. I think we'll need to keep a close eye on naquadah production. I'd hate to see a dump truck of the stuff go off in Times Square or Tel Aviv."

Maynard was about to continue when a very specific alarm began blaring, a new one that alerted them if an unscheduled hyperspace window opened within one light minute of Earth. Looking up at the screen, his mouth dropped as a Ha'tak sized vessel exited a greenish maelstrom, the Scimitar barely avoiding plowing into its reflective, silver hull.

Someone had come to see them.

* * *

_Bridge_

_Asgard Science Vessel Daniel Jackson_

The Asgard. One of the most advanced races in the local cluster and possessing hundreds of millennia of history, science and culture. A race that was feared by their enemies and whose allies, while few and far between were incredibly loyal. And their Supreme Military Command Thor had nearly had a heart attack when the small and surprisingly difficult to detect fighter had nearly slammed into his ship only two seconds after their emergence from subspace.

To say such a collision was unexpected was an understatement of immense proportions. Checking his sensors and then conducting an in-depth scan of not only said fighter but the small warship that was sitting in orbit nearby, Thor began to understand why such a potentially dangerous event had nearly taken place.

The fighter's airframe, hull and armor was made of a curious mix of trinium, naquadah, carbon and diamond that shielded most of its energy emissions from detection, at least to the lower resolution scans that were able to pierce the subspace/real space barrier. Coupled with an advanced, electro-active paint that even now was absorbing almost sixty percent of the radio, microwave and even some of the infrared energy his vessel's active electromagnetic scanners were bathing it in, the large amounts of electronic jamming its systems were flooding the local area with and the high levels of ambient radiation from the massive debris field, the near accident was unsurprising. Even Asgard technology, a significant portion of which was descended from the knowledge of the Alterans had its limits.

"I believe I owe you an apology Teal'c," commented Thor. He had doubted the level of technology that the vessel called Normandy was said to possess. Scanning the vessel in question he was certainly impressed by what he saw. While centuries out of date compared to even an older Beliskner class cruiser, considering that it had no traces of either naquadah or trinium it was a remarkable powerful ship. Certainly a match for anything the Goa'uld had ever built with the possible exceptions of Sokar's or Anubis' command ships. And neither of those were problems anymore.

"Had I not seen it fight with my own eyes, I would have been skeptical as well," replied the Jaffa. "It is a most impressive vessel."

As the scans continued, a frown began to spread across the supreme commander's face. His vessel was detecting a dark energy field encompassing both the fighter and the Normandy. Dark energy manipulation was something that had been discarded by his race millennia ago as an impractical way of manipulating gravity as the energy requirements were beyond extreme. Instead they had turned to more efficient, if bulkier methods of gravity control that the Alterans had helped them develop.

Over the millennia as they had recovered many fragments of the Alteran's database, they had discovered that there was one race that had mastered such a technology, using an exotic material found only in the aftermath of major stellar events. The entries were vague and lacked detail, even the name of the race was absent, possibly due to the age and level of corruption of the fragments. But the implications of this vessel using the same science, if in a far less advanced form was disturbing. It was not that the technology itself was dangerous, nor would the Asgard intervene to prevent its use and spread amongst the humans of Earth, who they had come to trust. And it might've just been a coincidence that this vessel, which admittedly was from an alternate reality, was using the same technology.

"We are being hailed," said Thor as the image of a young woman with glowing red scars covering her face appeared on the display behind him, the obvious result of advanced cybernetics.

"This is Commander Jade Shepard of the SSV Normandy to unknown vessel. You have entered protected space. Respond or we will take appropriate actions."

Thor tapped a few commands into the console before him, responding to the hail. "This is Supreme Commander Thor of the Asgard. With me is Teal'c. We have no hostile intentions."

"Understood, we are standing down," replied Shepard. "I apologize for the hostile reception but we cannot be too careful. I assume you're here to help Colonel O'Neill."

"Not exactly. The replicators have escaped from their captivity within the time dilation field and have infested our colony world of Orilla. We require the knowledge of the ancients that O'Neill possesses to devise an effective countermeasure."

At that, Shepard was silent, seemingly studying the image of Thor, something that unnerved the alien slightly. After a moment she continued, "There's something else isn't there?"

Thor was surprised, even though he shouldn't have been. Over the years he had come to realize that most humans were remarkably adept at reading body language, even that of races not their own.

Teal'c answered. "Yes, Colonel Carter has been captured by the Replicators. The vessel she was on was destroyed however the possibility exists that she is still alive."

"Shit," cursed Shepard. "And can I assume that there is a human form somewhere? One that's interrogating her?"

"A possibility," replied the stoic Jaffa.

"Damn it."

"I fail to see the source of your concern," commented Thor. "Though she is of immense value to this world and a close personal friend…"

"It's not just that," interrupted Jade. "She my friend too, for the short period I've known her. But my bigger concern is the Replicators themselves. From everything I've read about them, they're drawn to new technology like a moth to a flame. And this ship, not to mention almost all of our technology is completely alien to this universe as far as we can tell. Colonel Carter spent two weeks aboard helping to repair our systems and design the new fighter sitting next to us. She knows enough about Mass Effect technology to attract those machines. And once they're here, what will happen to Earth?"

Thor understood their concern and he certainly agreed. "What do you propose?"

"A small team and I will come along with you. Chances are you'll need all the help you can get, even if it's blowing things up; one of my specialties. Hopefully we can rescue Sam once we get where we're going."

Thor considered this for a moment. It was true that in the past, the humans had made excellent soldiers and had saved his life more than once where he would've otherwise been killed. And from everything Teal'c had told him, these people were extremely good soldiers.

"Very well, be ready to transport in five minutes."

"Thank you Supreme Commander. My team will be waiting in our shuttle bay on the lowest deck. There will be four of us." With that, the communication terminated.

* * *

_Cheyenne Mountain_

_Stargate Command_

Daniel had a headache. It wasn't a small headache, or a medium one or even a large one. It was a skull splitting, brain rupturing, ice pick in the eye socket sized migraine. So he was desperately searching the infirmary for the strongest, biggest, most potent Aspirin he could find.

He had spent the last six hours negotiating the final terms of the treaty with the System Lords. Even an hour around those morons was enough to make his head hurt. The meetings with those posturing egomaniacs had been going on for the better part of a week and things were finally coming to a close, helped along by the live footage of the Normandy and the Scimitar. He had envied Shepard when the Commander had left earlier in the day to oversee the demonstration of the F-302B. It had scared the crap out of the Goa'uld, helped along by assurances that it could carry high yield nuclear weaponry, warheads that could easily shatter Ha'tak.

But while the images, along with those of Anubis' command ship floating broken in orbit had finally minimized the air of arrogance that floated off those three like bad cologne, his head was still throbbing. He was just washing the capsule of brain-pain reducing medicine down with a bottle of water when he disappeared into a column of white light; startling the on-duty staff whom after their momentary shock went back to work as if nothing had happened.

Just another day at the world's most insane military command.

Most people, were they to suddenly be beamed aboard an alien spaceship, might panic or start screaming. Daniel just shrugged and finished washing down the Aspirin before walking over to join Teal'c.

"Hey guys, what's up?"

"Our new colony is in grave jeopardy. We have come here seeking a solution to that problem," responded Thor.

Daniel was about to respond when four more columns of light appeared, materializing a good portion of the Normandy's crew.

"Daniel," greeted Shepard as she tossed him and Teal'c a pack with an assault rifle, shotgun and submachine gun attached to it, dropping a third on the deck.

"Greetings," said Teal'c quickly unpacking the backpack and strapping the Tempest SMG to his thigh. He was certainly glad he had access to the advanced weapons again. The original weapons he and Colonel Carter had brought with them from the Normandy had been lost along with their Tel'tak and so he'd been forced to use a SPAS-12 shotgun that Thor had created for him from stored records.

"We're all here," commented the Specter, "well all but one."

"Wait, if you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting," began the archeologist, "you should know that Jack is still frozen in Antarc…," he continued, interrupted when the man in question materialized inside the stasis pod, "tica. As I was saying, where's Sam?"

"She was captured by the Replicators," said Teal'c. "Her ship was destroyed but there is a chance she still lives."

"And that's why we're here," added Shepard, referring to herself, Garrus, Mordin and Tali. "We cannot let the knowledge of Mass Effect fall into the Replicator's hands, not without a fight. Nor can we allow one of the most important intellectual resources that Earth has be lost to those killer von Neumann machines."

"Yes, interesting concept. Have studied extensively," said Mordin. "Humans have remarkable insights into advanced technology. Works of von Neumann, Arthur C Clarke, Issac Asimov, Freeman Dyson. Very interesting."

That brought Shepard up short, "Mordin, please tell me that the Salarian Special Tasks Groups are not developing self replicating machines as weapons."

Mordin just looked away and rubbed the back of his head causing Tali to groan. "Oh keelah, has no one learned anything from the Geth? A tethered AI used by a shadowy pseudo-terrorist organization I can understand. Cerberus would do anything to achieve their objectives. But the STG? What were you thinking?"

"Project not under my direction. Just participated before work on genophage. Not successful," defended the former commando.

"Good," replied Tali with a sigh. Last thing they needed was more problems. The Geth and the Reapers were enough already.

The trio native to this universe watched the byplay with some concern. For Daniel and Teal'c it was illustrating from a cultural standpoint. Neither had ever really had much contact with real 'aliens'. Even the Jaffa were human when it came right down to it. For Thor it was even more illuminating and explained the subtle handshakes coming from the Normandy, obviously infiltration attempts by their AI; a technology that even the Asgard found difficult to produce and one they had all but abandoned to work on more pressing issues, especially after the disastrous first contact with the Replicators and their ongoing genetic problems. Evidently these people were more advanced then they looked.

"We should depart," said Thor. The stars began to shift, the awe inspiring sight of Earth giving way to star spangled blackness of space. That was soon replaced as well by the greenish tunnel of a hyperspace conduit. The four members of the Normandy crew had gravitated to the window; observing the spectacle of hyperspace for the first time. To them it represented hope, a hope that they could free themselves from their dependence on the mass relays and in doing so ensure that the Reapers couldn't isolate them system by system when they came for their impending harvest.

Having turned the ship over to the autopilot, Thor approached the pod containing Jack. Though the man frequently acted like an idiot, Thor knew it was an act that hid his surprising intelligence and imagination. It was that intelligence that had led the Asgard to study him and his world in depth, and that imagination that had led the High Council to select the people of Earth as their protégées should anything happen to them. It was those abilities among many others that could reshape this universe one day in ways that the Asgard, the Alterans and the Nox couldn't have ever hoped to accomplish.

"What're you going to do," asked Daniel as the diminutive commander began entering commands into the pod.

"I am going to merge his mind with the ship's computer in order to access the knowledge stored there."

"That'll require defrosting him," commented Jade as she broke away from the hypnotic sight outside the window. "Can he survive that?"

"Hopefully the pod will sustain him," replied the Asgard.

"Hopefully?"

"We have little choice. The database in his mind is so massive that finding what we would need would be nearly impossible without his assistance."

"So a needle in a haystack situation?" asked Daniel.

"A haystack of near infinite size, yes."

By this point the remaining members of the Normandy's crew had joined them. A red light began sweeping the prone man, forming a link between his nervous system and the ship's network.

"Incredible," commented Garrus, "the implications of this technology. It would allow a ship to read its pilot's mind or even allow the pilot to become one with the ship, controlling it as if it was a part of his body."

"We originally acquired the technology to interface ourselves with a machine from the ancients, as you call them," replied Thor.

"Yeah, what are they called anyway," asked Daniel, the rest of the group looking at him oddly. "What? They can't have always been known as 'The Ancients'."

"Their race is known as Alterans. We last knew them as the Lanteans when they departed this galaxy fleeing the plague."

"Lanteans," asked Jade, "as in the City of Atlantis?"

"Yes, Atlantis was their capital city ship among many others. I know not if it survives to this day or its current location. The alliance had nearly disintegrated by that point; the Furlings had long since disappeared and the Alterans had quarantined themselves to stop the spread of the great plague."

"Why are you telling us this," asked Daniel, surprised by the unusual forthrightness of the Asgard.

"Because you would've learned all this soon in any event. The facility you refer to as the Antarctic Outpost is actually Atlantis' landing site where the city departed from thirty million years ago."

"Hello," came the disembodied voice of Jack over the ships intercom. "Hello, testing. Testing one, two. Hello?"

"Jack," asked Daniel.

"O'Neill, can you hear us," asked Thor.

"Hey guys. What's going on?"

"Your mind has been interfaced with the Daniel Jackson," replied Thor.

"WHAT?"

"Daniel Jackson is the name of the ship," said Teal'c, rolling his eyes and desperately trying to avoid another of those awkward conversations that had become part of his life on Earth.

"You have full access to the ship's computers and database," began Thor, at which point Jack found the environmental controls which included access to the ship's lights. After several seconds of Jack's trademark childishness Thor continued, "If you wish, you can appear to us in holographic form."

And the colonel did just that. Jack had expected to find Thor, Teal'c and Daniel. "Who are you people," he asked after a moment as his holographic self turned around and came face to face with two hundred twenty pounds of armed Turian. Not to mention Mordin, who looked like he was about to begin dissecting him any moment and Tali, who despite her face plate, he could tell was very interested in him at the moment, and not in the let's-get-drinks kind of way.

"Commander Jade Shepard of the SSV Normandy," replied the only human in the group, although even she had faintly glowing scars covering her face.

"I see," replied Jack after a moment, having consulted the ship's logs and the incredibly classified information that Thor had downloaded from the Pentagon's servers after breezing through some of the most sophisticated firewalls on Earth. "Thanks for the assist last month. It was really, really good timing on your par… WHAT?" he exclaimed as Mordin reached out a hand, which promptly passed right through him.

"Fascinating. Never seen such resolution. Fidelity of image. Even appears to be emitting sound."

Jack didn't like the look the Salarian was giving him and began to slowly back away. "Hey there, easy…"

The rest of the assembled group was smirking, even Thor. It was like watching a wildebeest being stalked by a hungry lion. Mordin had a slightly wild look in his eyes; the look he got when he was really, REALLY interested in something.

Jade let it continue for a moment longer before interjecting herself between the two. "Ok Mordin, that's enough."

"What? Apologies commander. Did not know what came over me."

"Jack we need your help," said Daniel.

"I know. Ship's log."

"Can you help with the Replicators," asked Thor.

"Already on it," replied Holo-O'Neill. "Anyway you should mingle amongst yourselves. I'll just go, not be here anymore."

"Jack…," said Daniel.

"I know and thanks for the concern."

* * *

It had been several hours. Jade and her people had spent that time learning everything they thought could help them defeat the Replicators in this upcoming battle. They had also begun training Jack in holographic form on how to use their small arms in the event it became necessary. Thor had taken an interest in the weapons as a possible form of weaponry that the Asgard themselves could carry into battle as a countermeasure against boarding, an area where the diminutive race was at a severe disadvantage.

They had also watched as Jack had designed some sort of device virtually. While the technology had impressed Teal'c and Daniel to no end, Jade and her people had just shrugged. They all knew how to use a CAD program. Hell there was even one built into their omni-tools to support the omnigel system.

Jade was demonstrating the various ammunition modes when the pod began emitting an alarm.

"We must revive him," said Thor, Jack's vital signs displayed on the small monitor built into the pod changing to various shades of red.

"No, not yet," O'Neill's voice said over the intercom.

Thor ignored him and activated the revival sequence. A white light surrounded his body and after a few seconds the pod opened, the light having dissipated. A few moments later Jack stirred, putting a hand to his head.

"Oy, what a headache," complained the colonel as he opened one eye, wincing at the bright light.

"Here," replied Daniel, handing the colonel one of his pilfered Aspirin which Jack quickly dry swallowed. "Take it easy, you've been through a lot."

"What now?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Getting my head sucked by one of those damned ancient head… suckers. And something about twins."

"He's fine," replied Daniel, standing up and sighing.

"Teal'c, what's with the hair? And who are these people?"

That left Commander Shepard confused. "We were just talking five minutes ago. Don't you remember?"

"No," replied Jack with a shrug before continuing, "Teal'c what's with the hair?"

"O'Neill, you should feel better momentarily and your memory should return shortly."

"Good, although with all the crap that's happened to this head, that's not a guarantee. And Teal'c, what's with the hair?"

Teal'c just sighed and raised his eyebrow.

"The specifications for the device you just created remain in the computer," continued Thor. "I believe I can synthesize it," he said, as the device materialized out of thin air.

"Impressive, some sort of advanced pattern fabrication system," asked Tali.

"A variation of our transport beam systems that allows us to rearrange matter on a subatomic scale," replied Thor, the rest of the people in the room looking on uncomprehendingly.

Tali quickly realized the problem and added, "It's similar to our own omnigel fed nano-lathes but the fabrication takes place entirely in an energy state. Such a system would be far more efficient because unlike our systems, transmuting matter on a sub-molecular scale, meaning rearranging protons, neutrons and electrons to form different elements would simply be a matter of manipulating the energy, not ripping existing molecules apart and reassembling them with nanites."

"You possess a similar system," asked Thor. These people were constantly surprising him. The Asgard regarded their matter fabrication systems as one of the most advanced technologies they had ever conceived of.

"Yes but the limiting factor has always been energy production. It's a common enough technology but it's really only ever used for the creation of small components or replacement parts, rather than full-scale manufacturing as the energy costs make it economically unsound. It also cannot create organic matter due to its complexity so it can't create most forms of food or medicine. Recently we've found that naquadah reactors provide a more than adequate energy to fuel ratio to make it practical for large scale manufacturing and it may be possible that a more powerful computing system might overcome the problems with organic matter."

Jack had only one thing to say to that, "Sweet. What is it?"

"We have no idea but you designed it," replied Daniel.

"Not I didn't."

"Yes you did, while you were linked to the computer."

"Well whatever it is, I don't remember making it or what it does."

"It was doubtful that he would retain the knowledge," said Thor, more than a little disappointed.

"Alright, let me have a look," said Jack as she stumbled over to the odd looking device. He bent down and looked at it, tapping the cross shaped forward section a few times before saying, "Yeah, I got nothing."

A moment later the ship dropped out of hyperspace and the main monitor changed to show the snowy image of another Asgard.

Thor turned to the image, "Penegal, I am relieved that you are still in a position to communicate."

"It will not last long. Were you able to procure a means of fighting the Replicators?"

"Possible. It will require more research before I can attempt to use the device."

"Thor, you should be aware; the Replicators infesting the colony are behaving in an organized manor unlike anything we've experienced before."

"Perhaps they are being controlled by a human form leader that has yet to reveal itself."

"If the human form survived the battle in orbit, there's a chance that Sam survived as well," commented Shepard. "Have you detected any human life signs on the planet?"

"No. The only life signs are those of our people fleeing."

"Well it might mean she's dead," concluded Tali, "or it might mean that the Replicators are shielding her life signs from detection for some reason."

"It's also possible that the human form Replicator is a new one created to replace that which was lost in orbit," added Thor.

Thor was about to continue when the transmitting dissolved into static. "We have lost the transmission."

"They probably took out the transceiver he was using," said Shepard. "It's what I would do in the Replicator's place. Cripple communications during a battle and you inhibit coordination, information sharing and logistics."

"We must determine what this device does," said Thor, activating a scanner to begin probing the machine's secrets.

"Well let's think for a moment," said Jade. "As I understand it, while the ancient knowledge was downloaded into the Colonel's mind, an experience I've endured myself unfortunately," she said with a wince, "it doesn't overwrite anything and the subject's personality remains intact and active. So what would Jack O'Neill design if he had access to all the information in the universe?"

The three members of SG-1 were silent for a moment before they all exclaimed at once, "Big honkin' space guns!"

"So there's a better than even chance this is a weapon of some kind," continued Garrus as he began examining the device. "By its size and the lack of anything that would appear to be a point for interfacing an external device, I would assume that it is some form of small arms and due to the lack of any type of pistol grip, one's hand would probably go in this hole here." The Turian activated his omni-tool's flashlight and pointed it in the hole. "Ah, yes there appears to be some sort of bar or grip, just behind the front panel and there is also a bulge of some kind, most likely a trigger."

Jack was about to pick the device up when another transmission popped up on the nearby monitor, catching everyone's attention.

"Thor, this is Commander Aegir of the Valhalla. We have lost contact with the surface."

"Aegir, communications have been terminated. What have you to report?"

"We have located what appears to be the remains of several human form Replicators floating amongst the debris of the Replicator ship. Somehow they must have survived the destruction of their vessel and have since become inactive. I am transmitting their coordinates. Use caution Thor. Our people cannot afford to lose you."

"Understood, Daniel Jackson out," said the supreme commander as he approached the command console.

"Whoa, what are you doing," asked Jack.

"I am going to transport them aboard. Though dangerous, we must have access to them in order to gain intelligence on the human form leading this attack." Entering commands, three more stasis pods appeared next to the one that Jack had been in. Shortly thereafter, four human form Replicators appeared in the pods, their clothing and flesh covered in silvery damage.

"Anyone recognize anyone," asked Daniel.

"Nope," replied Jack, reaching for his SMG.

"I do not," added Teal'c as he brought his Scimitar shotgun to bear.

"Don't look at me," said Jade, priming her Geth pulse rifle.

"Is it dead," asked O'Neill, leaning over the closest, the machine resembling a Caucasian male in his late twenties.

"Not entirely," replied Thor, causing Jack to jump back, aiming his Tempest at the thing's head. "All Replicators are linked through a sophisticated subspace communications network. We can use these machines to access that network through multiple points of ingress, increasing our chances of finding their leader."

"And if he wakes up, is this pod going to hold him," continued Jack.

"Probably not," replied Thor, accessing his controls and activating a containment field around each pod. "Though this will increase the chances of containment in that event."

"Good idea," replied Garrus, his attention turning back to the exotic weapon that O'Neill had created.

Thor meanwhile was accessing the Replicator's network. The communications were coming and going so fast that it appeared to be nothing but snow and static, each a compressed and encrypted databurst. "This is their communications network," commented Thor. "I am searching for any references to humans or human forms." After a few moments an image began to form, made from hundreds of sources.

"That's Sam," exclaimed O'Neill. "Zoom in!"

The image enlarged, the face of Samantha Carter, staring unseeingly out into whatever room she was imprisoned in dominating the screen.

"Can you locate her," asked Tali, examining the image and comparing what she had seen of Replicator communication protocols to those of the Geth. There was a disturbing similarity.

"She is within a small structure on the planet's surface, nearly a hundred kilometers from the edge of the colony near the impact site of an asteroid rich in neutronium," replied Thor.

"And neutronium is the only matter stable enough to create nanites of the complexity of the human form Replicators," concluded Shepard, drawing looks of surprise. "What, I do read reports, especially when they are about things that are so… Geth-like."

"You've noticed that as well," said Tali. "The similarities in their communications protocols are unnerving to say the least."

"What I want to know is how Sam survived the battle," asked Daniel.

"This structure must have separated from the main ship prior to the weapon impacts and then, masquerading as debris, fallen to the planet's surface. It is most likely the home of their leader."

"I don't like were this is going," commented Daniel, having read the reports from SG-1's original contact with the human forms. "You don't think…"

"Oh crap, it's Fifth. It's got to be. He had a crush on Sam and she betrayed him on Othala. That's the only reason the Replicators would've abducted her and not Teal'c as well," reasoned Jack. "And he's probably their leader too."

The display suddenly shut off, the link to the communications network failing.

"Uh guys, they're waking up," said Shepard, a note of nervousness creeping into her voice. Why was it always killer self-replicating machines? Couldn't it be dangerous plant life or evil space monkeys just once?

A wave of energy swept over the nearest Replicator repairing its damage. He turned his head and looked straight at them.

"Beam it out!" shouted O'Neill, his focus never wavering from both the Replicator and the SMG in his hands.

The musical energy field engulfed the sentient machines but they did not disappear as was expected.

"They are somehow blocking my efforts," commenting Thor in a voice that contained far too little panic for Jack's taste.

A moment later the transporter beam failed along with every other system on the ship including the containment fields; the room being bathed in blue by the emergency lighting. The pod doors opened and the Replicators got up.

The assembled soldiers immediately opened fire. While resistant to traditional projectile weaponry, the mass accelerators were blowing chunk after chunk out of the human form Replicators. However this was somewhat mitigated by the small size of the projectiles.

Shepard noticed something odd about the target she and Tali were firing on. It seemed to be slowing down and was gradually being covered by ice. Looking down at her weapon she realized that it was set to use cryo ammunition, the packets of Bose-Einstein condensate spreading super-cooled sub-atomic particles over the machine and slowly freezing it into uselessness.

"Switch to cryo ammo," shouted the Specter, sweeping her arm out and suspending the three remaining active Replicators in mid air using her biotics. The rest of the soldiers quickly entered the commands into their weapons and poured on the fire, the three active machines slowly covering with ice from frozen water vapor in the air.

The mass effect fields failed and the three came crashing to the floor. Two immediately shattered into their individual nanites, covering the floor in frozen, glittering silver particles. Unfortunately, as was the case with cryo ammo, the freezing effect was always a bit hit-or-miss. The third simply shook off the ice and rushed Teal'c. Though strong, the Jaffa wasn't a match for the machine and was thrown across the room. The Replicator grabbed his shotgun and turned it on Daniel. It pulled the trigger but discovered to its annoyance that the built in biometrics had locked the weapon.

Taking advantage of the male Replicator's momentary distraction, Jack grabbed the device that he had created and stuck his hand in the hole, locating the grip and the trigger. Pointing it at the machine and seeing the look of, well it could be called fear, on its face, he squeezed the trigger. A rippling wave of energy washed out over the human shaped machine and it just fell apart. Jack turned to the frozen Replicator and repeated the process, it too falling apart. He then began firing at the nanites on the floor until he was sure they had all been exposed.

Thor, who had been hiding behind his console stood back up, his eyes wide. Entering a command into his console, a green light swept the remains of the Replicators.

"It seems that the device has permanently disrupted the internal mechanics of the nanites, rendering them useless. In addition, many of the Replicators nanites show some micro fractures, most likely a result of the rapid freezing process imparted by your weaponry. Such rapid freezing is most likely the reason they were inactive in the first place; their sudden exposure to space having had a similar effect."

"Can Jack's weapon be adapted into something we can hit the planet with," asked Daniel.

"Yes, I can modify my ship's shield generators to project a similar energy wave now that I know what it does."

"Good, in the meantime…," began Jack.

"I cannot transport you inside the Replicator structure," Thor interrupted. "They have countermeasures in place to prevent that. I can however get you close."

"Great," exclaimed Shepard, tossing a trio of headsets to the members of SG-1 from her pack. Turning to Thor, Shepard handed him an OSD before continuing, "We're on a frequency of eight-hundred ninety five point four megahertz. Use the encryption key on that disk to access our network."

"Understood," replied the Asgard, placing the disk on his console and activating the adaptive interface, downloading the data. "Good luck," Thor said as the assembled men and woman disappeared in a flash of light.

* * *

The transporter beam deposited the seven soldiers in a densely forested area. The area was disturbingly quiet; the traditional noises of birds absent lending the area an oppressive atmosphere.

"Why is it that the entire universe looks like Southern British Columbia," asked Jack.

The other six members of their group stopped and looked at him. Daniel and Teal'c with exasperation at one of his 'tree' jokes. The three aliens with confusion, not knowing where this 'British Columbia' was or what it looked like. Shepard just snorted.

The seven continued north, having been deposited half a kilometer south of the Replicator's structure. They had been walking for about five minutes when the tell tale squeal of a spider-form Replicator sounded from above them. Teal'c, who was the closest to the tree in question pivoted and blew the scouting unit along with half the tree to fragments with his shotgun. A moment later the waves of mechanical spiders began attacking, their traditional 'overwhelm by numbers' tactics proving ineffective against the firepower brought to bear.

A dense swarm approached them and Shepard pulled out her heavy weapon, an M-490

Blackstorm. The whine of the weapon as it charged up overpowered the sounds of weapons fire and explosions. Three seconds later the weapon released, the yellow/black bolt of energy flying at the swarm, impacting seconds later.

Everything stopped for a few seconds as the surrounding matter: trees, dirt and Replicators were sucked into the micro-singularity. As the gravity well collapsed it flung the collected matter away at high speeds like a massive fragmentation grenade. The debris impacted the surrounding Replicators and hundreds of the bug like machines shattered.

"Take that you killer Lego," shouted O'Neill.

"STOP!" The group turned to see Fifth standing about ten meters away, surrounded by his 'bothers'. "If you harm me or any more of my brethren I assure you that Colonel Carter will die instantly."

The entire group brought their weapons to bear on him but held fire.

The speaker in Jade's ear squealed and the voice of Thor broke through, "Commander Shepard, I have completed the necessary modifications to the Daniel Jackson and the weapon is charging. It will be ready in thirty seconds. What is your status?"

Jade was glad she had brought her Death Mask helmet as it allowed her to cut off her external speakers. "We have found their leader and are working something out. Standby to fire on my command."

"Understood, standing by."

Turning to Fifth, a plan began to form in her mind. "So, here we are; an old fashioned Mexican standoff. You have Colonel Carter and we have a weapon in orbit that can destroy the whole lot of you in a single shot. We want our friend back and I'm betting they made you human enough to have the same survival instincts that we do. So how about we trade?"

Fifth looked at the armored woman for a moment. He was finding it difficult to assess her with that threatening looking helmet covering her face. "What do you propose?"

"Transport Colonel Carter here now and we let you go."

"WHAT?" demanded Jack.

"You heard me," replied the Specter before turning off her external speakers for a second and transmitting to both her group's headsets and Thor in close orbit through direct, impossible to intercept whisker laser links. "Just play along everyone. On the go signal, everyone will move to cover her. Jack will hit Fifth with his weapon before moving. Simultaneously Thor will fire the weapon at the center of the colony. The go signal will be the second click over the channel. Jack, stretch your neck if you agree."

"That plan is acceptable," commented the Supreme Commander, who had been monitoring the situation though the sensors and cameras in their helmets and headsets.

After a moment Jack stretched his neck.

Reactivating her external speakers, Shepard continued. "So do we have an agreement Fifth?"

"What guarantee do I have that you'll keep your word?"

"None," she replied with a shrug. "Live long enough and you'll find that there are few guarantees in life. But I will tell you that if you do not release her now, there's not a snowball's chance in hell that you'll get off this planet alive. That's a guarantee."

A moment of indecision crossed his face. It was true that if he died here, he was dead forever. While another could be made with his face and his memories, the personality, the being that was called Fifth would be lost forever. And that was yet another of the 'weaknesses' that the others had made him with: the desire to live.

"Very well." A flash of light appeared and Lieutenant-Colonel Samantha Carter appeared at the midpoint between both groups, unconscious but otherwise physically unharmed. "Now will you keep your part of the agreement?"

Jade stared into his eyes through the high resolutions cameras in her helmet before triggering her comm.

One click. Two clicks.

Simultaneously three things happened. A wave of energy burst forth from Jack's weapon, disintegrating Fifth, the entire group opened fire on the disoriented and leaderless spider-form Replicators as they moved to cover Sam and Thor triggered the energy pulse from the Daniel Jackson's shield grid.

The energy wave slammed into the city, the resulting shockwave shredding the Replicators in the city center then continuing out into the suburbs and then the countryside surrounding. The bugs, having lost their guiding force reverted to standard protocols, namely acquire new technology and replicate. They detected a massive amount of new technology coming from the group of seven near were the command node had been deactivated. They tried to swarm the technology but the mobile platforms they were programmed to use were quickly destroyed before they could come close.

Tactical processors recomputed their tactics yet could find no method of quickly overcoming the problem and so determined that the most effective way was to wear down the enemy through sheer numbers, as they always had. Unfortunately they had also detected an energy wave approaching that would lead to complete deactivation. Their central node, what the humans referred to at the 'Replicator Structure' quickly engaged anti-gravity field generators and propelled itself into the air, opening a hyperspace window and escaping one point three seconds before the wave hit it.

To the assembled group of warriors, the sight of thousands of Replicators falling apart was beautiful. Less beautiful was the sight of what they now knew to be a Replicator ship diving into a hyperspace window only two and a half kilometers above their heads.

"The weapon was successful," reported Thor over the comm channel. "All Replicator activity has ceased however a small number have managed to escape into hyperspace. What is the status of Colonel Carter?"

Jack knelt down, placing two fingers on her neck to check her pulse. "She's fine."

Sam opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by not only the rest of her team but also half of the Normandy's crew as well.

"Sam, are you ok," asked Jack.

"Fine sir. Good to see you up and about."

"Likewise Lieutenant-Colonel and congratulations on the promotion by the way. I wish I'd been there."

"Well you know, I was in a bunker under a mountain. You were in a box under a glacier. Scheduling was a nightmare."

Jack just chuckled at that. "Well shall we go?"

"Yeah, I'd like to get a shower. It's been a while."

"Thor, whenever you're ready," said Jack into his comm, the eight disappearing into a flash of white light.

* * *

_Situation Room_

_The White House_

_Four Days Later_

"The High Council wishes to express its gratitude for the assistance of both Colonel O'Neill's and Commander Shepard's teams provided during the recent crisis and would also like apologize for our absence during your conflict with Anubis," said Thor. "Needless to say, the attack on your world exempts you from the clause in the Protected Planets Treaty that restricts the transfer of Asgard technology to your world."

"So you're willing to provide us with advanced weaponry," asked Maynard.

"No. The High Council has placed restrictions on the transfer of certain technologies, our weaponry among them. However we are willing to share our theoretical knowledge in most fields as well as most of our technology including our power generation, sensor, defensive, communications, transporter, gravity control, life support and propulsion systems along with other, more minor technologies."

The silence that filled that room was deafening.

"You'll give us all that free and clear," asked Hayes quietly, still in a state of shock.

"No, we will provide experts to teach you to create those technologies yourselves and provide working examples for you to study. We will also train you in the use of those technologies. There are also restrictions on some of the systems. The transport beams will not be useable as a weapons delivery platform nor will the gravitic towing beams be useable as a method to rip enemy ships apart through shearing forces. Personally, I would not impose these restrictions but the High Council is still somewhat nervous about our technology in the hands of others."

"Understood," replied Hayes. "I would do the same in their position."

"We would also like to thank Commander Shepard personally."

All eyes turned to the scared woman sitting next to Colonel O'Neill. "Um, well any help you could provide in getting home would be appreciated and access to the same technologies you're giving Earth as well. We really need any help we can get back home right now. Also, if it would be possible to excavate the Charon Mass Relay in orbit of Pluto…"

"I have studied the information you have provided on these relays. It should not be a problem to remove the collected dust and ice that encases the device. We would ask that we be allowed to study the relay as well as this 'Citadel' space station should you locate it."

"I don't see a problem with that," replied Shepard.

"Me neither," added Hayes.

"Very well, I will perform the necessary tasks before leaving the system. Our engineers should arrive within the next week by means of one of our O'Neill class battlecruisers."

"Thank you for all the help Supreme Commander," intoned President Hayes, bowing his head slightly.

"No, it is we that should thank you. Without the help of your world, the Asgard would be extinct and our responsibilities would go unfulfilled. We owe your world more than we can ever repay. We owe you our existence. And we thank you for it."

Supreme Commander Thor disappeared.


	7. Chapter Six Part One Zero Hour

_Sorry of the long time between updates but FFXIII is really, REALLY addictive. I've had some writers block too, especially when it comes to chapter five so I decided to skip it for the moment. As it is you can still appreciate the first part of chapter six without it and I hope to get it finished soon, at which point I will of course upload it. I know how waiting for a new chapter can be torture sometimes. Anyway enjoy.  
_

**Chapter Six – Zero Hour Part One**

_Conference Room_

_May 6, 2004_

_Stargate Command, Cheyenne Mountain_

General O'Neill was having a bad day. His base was being overrun by a plant that just wouldn't die, two alien ambassadors were locked in a VIP suite trying their best not to kill each other, Walter and his new 'administrative assistant' Mark Gilmour were trying their best to bury him in paper-work and some psychotic son-of-a-bitch had just made off with one of their captured Tel'tak cargo ships from Area 51 six days ago, prompting a whole new security crackdown at all SGC affiliated facilities world-wide.

Still all that was nothing when compared to the most recent crisis. Ba'al was claiming to have captured SG-1 and had demanded the return of the turn-coat System Lord Camulus in exchange for their lives. Needless to say this had come at a bad time, although there wasn't ever a really good time for your best friends to be captured by a megalomaniac. So he did what any good leader did in a situation like his: called a meeting.

"So the question is, what do we do," declared O'Neill to the group of officers before him.

"Well we could trade Camulus for their return," began Colonel Reynolds, "but any exchange would have to take place at a neutral location. We can't risk opening the Stargate in case it's a trap."

"What about a rescue," suggestion Major Paul Davis, the SGC's Pentagon liaison.

"No good. We don't have any idea where they are," replied Agent Richard Vickers, the SGC's Director of Intelligence and an active member of the CIA. "The Tok'ra haven't exactly been all that helpful over the past few months and the Jaffa are, with a few exceptions, becoming more and more arrogant and less helpful as the days go by."

"May I ask something," interrupted Colonel Elias McNulty, head of the first and only currently operational Off-World Combat Brigade, "why are we even considering negotiating with this bastard?" he began, ignoring the looks of surprise that spread across the faces of most of the assembled personnel. "Don't get me wrong. I respect SG-1 and their accomplishments and I don't like the concept of leaving anyone to fend for themselves. But there is no real evidence that Ba'al has them, aside from an Al'kesh on a scouting mission and a bit of melodramatic over acting on the part of the bastard himself."

"What are you suggesting," asked O'Neill, a thoughtful look crossing his features.

"Look, we don't negotiate with terrorists if it doesn't get us what we want. That has been stated US policy for years. And regardless of the scale, terrorists are exactly what the Goa'uld are. Granted that their rule by terror has been institutionalized and their technology is a lot better than some radical chauvinist bastard living in a cave in Pakistan and wielding a Kalashnikov, but a terrorist is a terrorist no matter what his species. And you don't appease monsters; you hunt them down and kick their asses."

"What are you proposing?" asked Reynolds, clearly not used to such an aggressive attitude.

"We use the Saratoga and launch an invasion of one of Ba'al's worlds. Make sure the target is important enough that even the threat of its loss would convince Ba'al to return SG-1. He won't believe us of course so we go ahead and invade the place. Then when he realizes just how far he's up shit creek and just how far away his paddle really is, we make the demand for SG-1's release again in exchange for us not nuking the place until it glows. If, and I stress if, he indeed does have them then he'll let them go of face the consequences, followed by another and another strike until he smartens up. If he doesn't have them then it's not a risk to their lives and it'll show the entire galaxy that Earth is not a planet to be fucked with."

"The Saratoga isn't ready yet," replied Davis. "We've repaired the damage and installed the new systems but she's still missing most of her weapons array. At the moment she only has her GARDIAN system and one-sixth of her secondary batteries. No Thanix cannons, no missile launchers and no torpedoes."

"I'm not saying we use her as a battleship. In fact if everything goes as planned, the most she might use her weapons for is some orbit to ground support fire, nothing more."

"What about a target?" asked O'Neill, warming up to the idea.

"Erebus," replied the Colonel, looks of shock covering the faces of almost everyone present.

"Are you out of your fucking mind," exclaimed Reynolds before he could stop himself. "That place is a fortress."

"I don't understand," said Mark Gilmour, who'd been silent up to this point.

"Erebus is a planet located within Ba'al's territory, near what used to be his border with Anubis," replied O'Neill after a moment. "We launched an operation against the planet to liberate the Jaffa being used as slave labor about a year ago. The planet at the time served as a major mining and ship building facility. Unfortunately because of how close reinforcements were, we were only able to liberate the planet and get the hell out of dodge, not completely destroy the place."

"Since then, the planet has become one of the most important worlds within Ba'al's domain," continued Agent Vickers. "Not only has he replaced the anti-gravity dry dock destroyed in the raid, but he's expanded the facilities drastically. The planet is now home to eighteen dry docks, representing over sixty percent of Ba'al's known capital shipbuilding capacity. There are also factories that produce most of his Death Gliders, Al'kesh, Tel'tak, small arms, armor and the components for all of the above. For all intents and purposes, Erebus is the industrial center of Ba'al's territory making it as important as his capitol Dakara and Tartarus where he makes his Kull warriors."

"And it's heavily defended as well, despite the fact that the planet lies over nine-hundred light-years from the front lines with the other system lords," added Davis. "Two Ha'tak and twelve orbital defense platforms guard it from space, an estimated forty-thousand Jaffa and two-thousand Kull, hundreds of staff cannon emplacements and towers, dozens of Al'kesh and Gliders on ready alert at all times, a gate shield and even some form of anti-air defense turrets, or so our intel suggests."

"So how do you plan to get around that," Reynolds asked McNulty point blank.

"We blitz them. Look at the moment we have a major tactical advantage in that the Goa'uld don't really know our true capabilities. Up until now, we have only engaged the Goa'uld with small infantry formations, a few dozen people at most. They won't be ready for faster than light capable fighters, armor, artillery, helicopters, air support or a brigade sized force equipped as mine is."

"You want to pull a Pearl Harbor," replied O'Neill with a grin.

"Followed by an amphibious invasion, yes sir. We hit them with our 302Bs before they can respond and then we land and invade. While we've been able to equip my entire brigade with the new armor and small arms from the Normandy, we don't have any of the new vehicles like the Hammerhead hover tanks or the Mantis gunships because of the lack of element zero. So instead we've modified our own vehicles as an intern solution until our deep space mining operations get going. We've got thirty seven M1A3 Abrams Main Battle Tanks, fifty nine M2A4 Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicles, fifty three M1126A1 Stryker Armored Personnel Carriers and seventy four Humvees modified with trinium/naquadah armor, naquadah reactors, electric motors and in the case of the Abrams; shields. We've also added new weapons to make them even more effective using the tech you guys have access to."

"What about air support?" asked O'Neill, clearly liking what he was hearing.

"Twenty nine AH-1WA1 SuperCobras, twenty four AH-64DA1 Apache Longbows and forty UH-60MA1 Black Hawks, all upgraded with naq reactors, electric engines, trinium/naquadah armor and shields. As for artillery, I've appropriated one hundred M109 Paladins and forty M270 MLRSs equipped with naq reactors and electric motors. No armor upgrades but they shouldn't get into close combat anyway. I've also managed to get my hands on five of the new MQ-9 Reapers and twelve MQ-1 Predator UAVs for battlefield surveillance and tactical strikes. We've modified the Saratoga's electromagnetic to launch them. Once we land and secure the ground around the ship, I'll have a bunch of bulldozers level a stretch of land for them to land on. Believe me, forty-thousand Jaffa will be nothing when compared to the forces we can bring to bear."

"I like it," declared O'Neill as he closed his folder. "The question is how long will it take to plan the attack and get it all together? Ba'al has left us with a rather small timeline."

"On my own authority I ordered by brigade to begin loading the Saratoga approximately four hours ago. Needless to say Colonel Emerson will not be sending me a Christmas card this year," replied McNulty with a grin, laughter circling the room. Having one's ship invaded by Marines and Army soldiers was not conducive to an orderly and stress-free day. "All equipment should be on board and secured for transit within another twenty hours. With her new hyperdrive it's a four hour trip to Erebus so we should be in position in approximately twenty four hours. I'd like to give my people some time to rest before launching the attack so realistically thirty hours. As for the planning well…"

"We don't have enough intel to set out anything but broad objectives and strategies," concluded O'Neill with a slight frown. "So what else is new?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well, under my authority as commander of the SGC, I'm authorizing the mission. Also, contact the Tok'ra and ask them to send an observer or two. If they've been getting a little arrogant lately and don't want to be allies anymore then I want them sufficiently frightened by our forces to keep them from doing anything truly stupid. Get to it."

* * *

_Embarkation Room_

_Five Hours Later_

"Unscheduled off-world activation," announced Walter over the PA.

"Here we go," muttered O'Neill to himself as he entered the massive room. Over the years his opinion of the Tok'ra had diminished to the point where he generally held them only a few steps above a hangnail. Now he was going to have to be nice to some of them. 'The perils of command,' he thought sarcastically.

"We've received the Tok'ra's IDC," announced the freakish little sergeant.

"Open the iris," replied the General, the curved metal barrier sliding open before him. Moments later two people exited the shimmering event horizon, bringing a smile to the cocky general's face. Well maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"Jacob, how are you…"

"ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?" bellowed the retired general turned pseudo-diplomat/warrior, cutting Jack off. "Are you insane? Have you lost your bloody mind? Erebus? You want to attack fucking Erebus? One of the most heavily defended planets in this entire galaxy. A planet literally swarming with Kull warriors and enough Jaffa to form a decent sized army even here on Earth. That Erebus?"

"Nice to see you too Jacob. Anise, long time no see. How's things?"

"General," began the Tok'ra scientist, shaking her head a little to get the ringing out of her ears from Jacob's rather loud tirade, "it is good to see you again. While I wouldn't have put it quite the same way as Jacob, I have to agree. Attacking Erebus is… inadvisable."

"Yes well, we're doing it anyway."

"Jack, I seriously hope this is just a joke. Because it's a good one," sighed Jacob, having seemingly deflated as his anger reduced itself to a simmer.

"No joke. And yes we're aware of the disposition of Ba'al's forces. And quite frankly that shouldn't be a problem."

"Well unless you're planning to march a brigade though the gate, after somehow bringing down its shield; I don't see how you have a hope in hell of succeeding."

"Funny you should mention that," replied Jack with an almost feral grin. "Follow me."

The three quickly left the gate room; the marines on security having heard the retired general's explosion giving them a wide berth. As they approached the elevator, Anise began her interrogation of the general, hoping it would lead to some answers.

"The High Council received word of Anubis' attack on you planet, his defeat and the subsequent treaty you signed with the System Lords. Needless to say they were more than a little unhappy."

"Yes, well they can kiss my ass," replied Jack evenly as the three entered the elevator car. "The Tok'ra seem to forget that we're not their vassals. We will do what's in our best interests including signing a treaty with the devil himself if it suits us. Besides, I doubt the treaty will survive more than a few years at the most. In the meantime we don't have to worry about those posturing egomaniacs sniping at us while we take care of Ba'al."

"And then what," asked Jacob, torn between his loyalties, something that had begun to isolate himself and Selmak from the rest of the Tok'ra leadership.

"By then we'll have the forces to deal with the Goa'uld once and for all," replied Jack indifferently, the intimation he was making sending a shiver up Anise's spine. Perhaps the Tok'ra had badly underestimated Earth after all, a fact that Jacob and Selmak had been preaching for six years. The threesome exited the elevator and approached a blast door with a pair of marines on either side it full combat gear.

"What do you have in there; sasquatch?" asked Jacob with a smirk.

"No, it's the SGC's new ring room. Seems a good idea to make sure its heavily armored and defended at all times."

"We are traveling to a vessel in orbit," questioned Anise.

"No, Groom Lake."

"Area 51? How do you plan to do that? The curvature of the Earth should prevent a direct trip."

"We'll bounce off one of the new ArkLight satellites."

"ArkLight?" asked Anise, the scientist in her curious at the system.

"We designed the system in conjunction with the Asgard, now that the protected planets treaty is essentially null and void. Each serves as a relay for both ring and their own transporter systems. Hell, you can actually mix and match as well, converting one into another. Makes getting around a hell of a lot easier."

"How are you planning to keep them secret?" asked Jacob. A beam of light routinely shooting into the sky from Cheyenne Mountain was not an easy thing to overlook.

"Why bother? The public already knows about them."

"YOU DISCOLOSED THE STARGATE? HOLY…" bellowed Jacob, the transport field cutting him off.

"Yes Jacob. We kind of had to do that, what with us detonating about a hundred gigatons of nuclear ordinance over Southern California and all. Oh and welcome to Area 51," continued Jack. The constant eruptions from his friend didn't really bother him anymore, not after having to deal with every politician in the Stargate Alliance trying to stick their grubby hands into his business every six seconds.

"Oh my god. How are things going?"

"Not too well but not too badly. Most of the civil disturbances in the industrialized world have settled down and the markets have rebounded. But it's certainly divided the world, more so than before. The US is now the leading power of the newly formed Stargate Alliance along with Canada, the United Kingdom, Ireland, Iceland, Germany, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, South Korea, Israel and Taiwan. The French are doing their normal go-it-alone thing, froggy bastards. India is on the fence hoping to take advantage of the new tech without actually committing any resources; both the Russians and the Chinese are doing their level best to get in everyone's way. Hell they've both tried to blackmail the US into giving them our ships at least twice, each. And the Middle East is going universally nuts as expected."

"To what ships are you referring…," asked Anise a second before they stepped out into the blazing sun. "Oh."

Before them stood a procession of five Ha'tak motherships, personnel and ground vehicles swarming the nearest of the quintet as it sat quietly on the dry land into which their new landing gear imbedded itself. Already she could make out some fairly major changes on the closest, not the least of which was the US Air Force roundels emblazoned on his hull.

"May I present the USS Saratoga, the first of the Saratoga refit motherships. Behind her you can see the USS Enterprise, USS Scryer, USS Hibernia and the HMCS Hudson."

"You captured five Ha'tak during the battle," asked Jacob, clearly impressed by what he saw before him, even if most of them looked like they'd been though an asteroid storm without their shields; massive rips in their hull near what used to be their weapon turrets.

"Eight actually. The remaining three are undamaged and in orbit as sentries; the HMS Britannia, JDS Kusari and the FGS Rhineland. As we complete the refits, we'll rotate the remaining Anubis refits down here and put the Saratogas in orbit. As for the Scryer and Hibernia, they're being converted into deep-space mining and refinery vessels for use in high radiation systems."

"For what purpose," asked Anise. Surely they could acquire enough materials through planet-based mining operations.

"Element zero production," replied O'Neill, not really answering her question at all. "Ah, I'd like to introduce you to Colonel Paul Emerson, captain of the Saratoga.

"Pleased to meet you both," replied the Colonel, shaking both Tok'ra's hands before turning to his commanding officer. "And general seriously; captain? Sounds like a demotion."

"Get over it. Well I'll leave you in the Colonel's capable hands. I have some riveting paper-work to get back to. See ya."

"Well, would you like a tour?" asked the Colonel shaking his head at his CO's antics.

"That'd be great," replied Jacob as the three made their way towards the massive vessel. "I see you've made some changes."

"Had to. When we got her she looked a lot like the other four. Her entire weapon's array overloaded during the battle causing an explosive decompression throughout the entire vessel. We were barely able to land her before her engines gave out and needless to say we've spent the past three months repairing and upgrading her."

"I can certainly see that," replied Jacob with a low whistle, "although how the hell did her entire armament overload. The computer fail safes should have prevented that."

"Not if the computer was being invaded and overridden at the time," replied the Colonel with a grin at the disbelieving looks the two returned to that little comment. "New tech we got from some friends. We've managed to repair the damage and upgrade most of the systems. As you can see the only real work left to be done is fitting her out with her remaining weapons."

"Not to be a pessimist but how are we going to attack a system lord with an unarmed ship?"

"Well we have our GARDIAN pulse lasers and hopefully by the time we take off we should have twelve of our secondary batteries. That said if all goes according to plan, we won't actually engage the orbital forces, our fighters will handle that."

"I see," replied Anise, not really understanding what was going on. Military tactics had never been her area of expertise although a glimmer of comprehension was beginning to spread across Jacob's face. "I can see some major changes to the central pyramid."

"Yeah, we've essentially sealed the bottom up and made it solid. Can't use the landing platforms anymore but that's what the new landing gear is for. And it has increased cargo space by more than three times. We've got roll-on/roll-off ramps as you can see for vehicles, the electromagnetic catapults have been repurposed for launching drones and the large hanger bays in the supporting ring that used to be for Tel'taks are now for launching and recovering helicopters and future VTOLs. Most of it is configured to support current tech instead of the new stuff we're getting somewhere down the line."

"Ok, I'm beginning to see why Jack was so confident," commented Jacob with a grin as the three began walking up one of the massive ramps leading to the lowest level of the ship.

"I don't understand…," began Anise before she came face to face with a massive… thing; a lot of massive things all lined up in neat rows. They were some sort of machines with treads like she'd seen on some of the small robot probes the Tau'ri used. It had a huge triangular cannon coming out of a large squat turret and was armored with the same material Goa'uld motherships used. And it looked like it could crush a small house without stopping. "What… what is this thing?" she stuttered as she began backing away and turning to her two escorts.

"This is an M1A3 Abrams Main Battle Tank." replied the voice of a man whose head popped out of said machine's hatch, "Next generation design specifically created for use off-world. Colonel Elias McNulty, Commander of Off-World Combat Brigade Alpha at your service."

"Pleased to meet you," replied Jacob, shaking the man's hand and immediately assessing the person before him. What he saw was impressive enough. Fifty something, black hair with the occasional grey strand thrown in. Weathered face and the scar across his chin showed that he'd seen combat before and his general demeanor just screamed army.

"It's an honor," replied Elias with a grin. "The famous General Jacob Carter. Damned brave thing you did, what with the whole 'ambassador to the Tok'ra' thing and all."

"If I hadn't I'd be dead right now. It seemed like a good decision at the time."

"And now?"

"I'll never regret blending with Selmak. Never. But let's just say things are not the way they were six years ago," replied the old general with a tired sigh. The Tok'ra were changing as the Goa'uld's influence and power became increasingly diminished. And neither of them liked the direction they were headed in, Selmak especially.

It was funny, thought the symbiote. Before his blending with Jacob, he'd have been happy with the new direction the Tok'ra were heading in. However after having seen the memories of his current host; the lifetime of wars and tragedies that defined Earth in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, he was beginning to see patterns emerging within the Tok'ra leadership's attitudes and actions. And the only things that such hatred, arrogance and bigotry brought about were pain and sorrow. Not that he'd share those thoughts with the others lest they move to isolate him further. It was one of the reasons Jacob did most of the talking these days.

"Well why don't we continue the tour," interjected Emerson after a moment, the awkwardness permeating the air between the four.

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea," replied Anise. Officially she'd been sent as a scientific observer by the High Council. There was a growing distrust of the Tau'ri among their ranks. The human world was becoming major player in galactic politics and they wanted insights into the new technologies their 'allies' were beginning to deploy, technologies that were believed to have been responsible for their almost casual defeat of Anubis. Unofficially she was to keep an eye on Jacob on the orders of Gershaw of Belote herself. There was increasing worry about the attitudes displayed by both Selmak and his host.

"Then if you'll follow me," said Emerson as he began moving towards large column in the center of the now sealed room, what Anise recognized as the core of the ship itself. The threesome entered a small room that she recognized as an elevator, apparently a primary form of transportation for the Tau'ri. However it was not the room that caught her attention but the control next to the door.

"Holographics," commented Anise with some surprise. Everything she'd seen about the Tau'ri indicated that they did not have that technology.

"Yes. Never needs to be cleaned, never gets shattered. Never freezes into uselessness if exposed to vacuum," commented Emerson with a grin before tapping the appropriate destination, his finger apparently encountering some resistance when it contacted the image.

"Impressive. Even the Goa'uld haven't managed to create even slightly tangible holograms."

"Well this isn't Goa'uld tech," the Colonel replied as the doors shut. The three traveled in silence for a moment before the doors opened again. The three exited and crossed a corridor, surprisingly different from what they'd seen of Goa'uld vessels before. Gone were the golden, slanted walls and mesh overlays and there wasn't a brazier in sight. In fact the entire corridor looked as if it belonged on another ship, not a Goa'uld Ha'tak.

The corridors were ovoid in appearance, the walls made of square blocks of a grayish metal that Jacob recognized as highly refined Trinium. LED pot lights recessed into the ceiling provided most of the illumination although it was slightly darker than what he was used to on Goa'uld vessels. At regular intervals along the corridor, orange holograms displayed a myriad of data ranging from internal schematics to system diagnostics, presumably related to whatever systems ran behind the walls. Overall it looked extremely futuristic.

"What happened here?" asked Jacob after the three finished taking in the sight.

"The damage was quite extensive and the modifications we made quite significant. In the end we decided to completely overhaul the ship's internals and bring them up to something more to our liking. I think it might have had something to do with the fact that people were getting headaches from looking at the golden walls. In reality, the only thing original about this ship it its sub light engines, space frame and a few other minor systems all of which have been heavily modified. Everything else is either Asgard, System's Alliance, Cerberus or Earth tech."

"I'm not familiar with either the System's Alliance or Cerberus," commented Anise.

"It's a very long story. Let's just continue with the tour," replied Emerson. Clearly these humans were hiding something.

The three crossed the corridor to a set of heavy blast doors. If Anise was correct about their location, they were right outside where one of the three Death Glider bays would be. The doors, which were almost a half meter thick, parted and they were certainly not disappointed by the sight before them. Like the vehicle bay below them, most of the massive bay before them had once been exposed to space, empty except for when the ship would land on a pyramid platform. Now it was home to a large number of black fighter craft. However as Anise looked around, it quickly became apparent that the bay was only perhaps one third full, the yellow marked pads on the floor showing where numerous craft were missing.

The fighters were interesting as well. Clearly a design based upon the Goa'uld Death Glider, these were almost twice the size and more angular. In addition they had a pair of boxy protrusions merged into their inner wings, the purposes of which were unknown to the Tok'ra scientist. They were covered in a grey/yellow material that almost seemed to sparkle under the banks of lighting hanging from the ceiling. She could make out two small, stubby cannons on the outsides of their wing protrusions and as she watched, a series of robotic arms appeared from hatches in the floor and began attaching cylindrical objects to a series of points along the bottoms of the fighter's wings, points which had just emerged from a series of small hatches.

The thoughts were interrupted by a long, low whistle from Jacob. "Damn, they're beauties alright."

Emerson smiled at that, and Anise could almost make out the testosterone flowing from the two men. "The F-302B Scimitar Air and Space Superiority Fighter. The first generation of true space-borne fighters to be constructed on Earth."

"Damn, they look deadly. Think I could take one for a spin?" asked Jacob, his eyes never leaving their deadly forms.

"Probably not," replied Emerson with a frown. "Even I'm not qualified on them yet. They use a new holographic interface and it's pretty weird until you get used to it. In the meantime we only have thirty three of these beasts until we can get our deep space mining operations online."

That was the second time Anise had heard that comment. "Surely you have enough naquadah and trinium to produce more."

"Sure, and actually there are another forty seven waiting at Lockheed Martin's plant at Fort Worth, Texas. But without more Element Zero to produce their mass effect cores they're about as maneuverable as a B-1B Lancer. No artificial gravity, anti-gravity, inertial dampening, mass reduction, kinetic barriers or FTL. And they sure as hell can't escape a planet's gravity well unassisted. So at the moment they just sit and wait."

It took a moment for Anise to process that information before her face lit up. "They have shields and hyperdrives?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes and no. Yes they do have shields, but they also have a secondary system called a Cyclonic Kinetic Barrier that works in tandem with the shields to provide additional protection. But no they don't have a hyperdrive. Though we now have a reactor design powerful enough to run a compact hyperspace window generator without using one of those idiotic naquadria power cells, it was felt that a Mass Effect FTL drive, which would be much, MUCH smaller and more efficient because of the existing presence of the core would be a better option."

That shocked Anise. The Goa'uld had been trying for centuries to create a fighter capable of faster than light travel. They'd even come close several times in the past eight hundred years. However the Tok'ra had always prioritized sabotaging those projects. That the Tau'ri could develop what sounded to her like a completely new form of FTL travel was unbelievable. It also explained their confidence. Such fighters would represent an unprecedented tactical advantage.

"So, should we continue," asked Emerson after a moment.

"Yes…," replied Anise slowly as the three headed back out the door. The council's fears had apparently been well founded.

* * *

_Stargate Chamber_

_May 7, 2004_

_Dakara, Ba'al's Capital_

Ba'al was feeling particularly confident today. True, that fool O'Neill hadn't returned Camulus yet but with the lives of his dearest friends hanging in the balance, he was sure he could pressure the human into submission. His only concern was that they might actually discover that he had not actually captured SG-1.

Turning to the Jaffa no duty, the renegade system lord ordered, "Dial the Tau'ri," before stepping onto a platform that would project a holographic version of himself though the Stargate. The great naquadah ring began its grinding spin, the seven chevrons necessary to connect to another planet quickly locking into place. When the wormhole was finally established, Ba'al tapped a few symbols on the small control pedestal attached to the device and the world seemed to shift around him.

When the image cleared, he could clearly make out the barren concrete walls of the facility the humans called the SGC, curiously bathed in green, not white light. The door to his side opened after a minute or so and O'Neill, looking arrogant and condescending as usual strolled into the room.

"Ba'al, sorry to keep you waiting. I was busy taking a little nap," replied O'Neill with a smirk.

"The deadline has passed," replied Ba'al, trying desperately to keep a smile suppressed. He actually found O'Neill to be quite amusing sometimes.

"Yeah look, we're having a little technical difficulty here."

"Are your friends' lives meaningless to you?"

"The question is how much are they worth to you," replied the General, the look on his face becoming considerably darker.

"What are you implying O'Neill," replied Ba'al, the note of concern registering in his mind. The O'Neill he knew was irreverent and used jokes and sarcasm to communicate. There was nothing joking about the way he issued that little threat.

"Are they worth losing your war against the System Lords? Are they worth losing one of your worlds?"

"I find your bluster amusing but also transparent. You do not possess the ability to threaten me in this way. Return the traitor Camulus or your friends will die."

"I don't believe you have them," replied O'Neill bluntly, calling the Goa'uld bluff.

"I do have them, and I promise you they will die a horrible and painful death if you do not obey me," the anger in Ba'al's voice beginning to overtake his calm and detached demeanor. It had been a long time since a mere human had so clearly defied him.

"Maybe but I doubt it. Here's the deal Bocce. Either you return SG-1 immediately or we'll destroy Erebus."

That certainly caught Ba'al off-guard. He knew the Tau'ri had attacked Erebus before but that had been when it was only protected by a few hundred Jaffa. He had made sure that mistake would never be repeated again.

"You don't have the forces. I have…"

"Forty thousand Jaffa, two thousand Kull and fixed defenses," listed O'Neill, the smile on his face becoming darker by the minute. "If I recall correctly, that's a significant percentage of your forces. And if SG-1 isn't returned within five hours, they die; and Erebus will be a radioactive crater. Somehow I doubt you'll be able to repair that kind of damage."

This was certainly getting out of control, thought Ba'al with a mental shudder. He could either continue his bluff or he could admit his deception. However if he did, he was sure that no one would ever take him seriously again and the Tau'ri were certain to make the whole galaxy aware of how they'd humiliated him. The course of action was clear.

"Fine O'Neill. Their deaths are your responsibility. Maybe I'll return their bodies. Maybe," replied the Goa'uld before his hologram disappeared, the Stargate shutting down a moment later.

Turning to his first prime the system lord began barking out orders, "Prepare for an attack on Erebus."

"My lord, what has happened," asked Ta'ror.

"The Tau'ri are preparing an attack on my world. I cannot afford the facilities there to be damaged. See to their safety. Use whatever resources you require."

"Yes my lord. Do we have any information on what they'll be sending?"

"It is possible they salvaged one of Anubis' ships from the fool's attack on their world along with some Death Gliders."

"I understand. I will personally take command of the forces there."

"Good," replied Ba'al as he exited the room before stopping and turning around, "and Ta'ror, I am leaving you entirely in charge of everything on and above Erebus. If that fool Amun gives you any trouble, tell him to contact me personally. Now go. The Tau'ri claim they will attack within five hours."

"Understood my lord," replied Ta'ror with a bow before turning to the Chaapa'ai. He would never allow the heretics to taint his god's world again.

* * *

_F-302B Scimitar Space Superiority Fighter, Swordsman Prime_

_Commander Roselyn "Sonic" Igel, CO VFA-32, United States Navy_

_USS Saratoga Launch Bay, T-Minus Five Minutes to Contact_

As she waited for the order to launch; Sonic couldn't help but reflect on the past few months. When the attack on Earth had taken place, her entire squadron had been assigned to the USS Harry S. Truman. They'd been on their way to the Mediterranean to support the forces in Iraq and Afghanistan when they'd been called into a briefing, easily one of the strangest of her life. Basically the CAG had told them to shoot down anything that fired yellow bolts at them and then send them out, barely stopping to wish them good hunting.

Of course they hadn't known what to think until a second star appeared in the heavens, the massive nuclear detonation over Wyoming visible from their patrol path above the Atlantic. Days later the whole world had known the truth and her entire squadron had been reassigned as F-302 pilots. Rather than give the new 'B's to the veterans of the program, her squadron was chosen to be the first, mainly because the new generation 302 was so different to the older model. Better to train them from scratch and so for the past three months they'd learned how to fly in an environment where gravity wasn't a constant, where inertia kept going forever and where there was not an up or down. And she wouldn't trade it for the world.

Now here she was at the vanguard of an invasion of another world. Personally from what she'd heard of them, the Goa'uld deserved whatever they got. Slavery, torture, genocide; it would be a good day when their entire species was a footnote in a history book. For years the people of the SGC had waged a war in secret, their actions unacknowledged and unappreciated. That was about to change.

"Swordsman Prime to all Swordsmen. Report status," she said after triggering her comm.

"Swordsman Two go."

"Swordsman Three ready."

"Swordsman Four ready to rock…," and so it went right until Swordsman sixteen. Their squadron would be split in half for the upcoming space battle, half dealing with the enemy fighters, the other half attached to their brother squadron, the VFA-105 Gunslingers.

"Status confirmed," replied Sonic. Asking for a pre-mission status report was slightly superfluous on the F-302B. If there was a problem that the onboard VI couldn't solve, chances were they weren't getting off the deck. Added to that was the fact that she could access a complete systems diagnostic from any of her squadron on the holographic HUD both projected on the visor of her air-tight helmet and on the canopy around her actually made the pilot's reports completely obsolete. Still, old habits die hard. "Swordsman nine though sixteen, you are under the command of Gunslinger Prime until further notice."

"Confirmed change of command," boomed the voice of Commander Seymour "Teatime" Wordsworth, the commander of the Gunslingers. He and his parents had immigrated to the US when he was only six years old. Still, to this day there was something indefinably 'British' about her colleague, hence his call sign. "I'll take good care of them."

"I'm sure you will Teatime. All Swordsmen, equip for space superiority. We're taking down those gull-winged bastards."

Eight confirmation lights winked on her HUD. "Tas, equip space superiority package delta," she said, talking to her fighter's VI.

"Confirmed," replied the VI, its form appearing on her canopy as the cartoon Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes. 'Hell it even got the voice right,' she thought for about the thousandth time. The concept of being able to hold a conversation with her bird was interesting to say the least. Logically she knew that without him, half the systems on her Scimitar wouldn't work at all and the other half wouldn't even come close to performing to spec. Still it was a little creepy that her fighter was essentially alive.

Below her she could hear the robotic arms attaching the equipment to her fighter. The displays in front of her showed their progress and she found another thing to marvel at. As a rule the fighters didn't mount anything but their built-in cannons when parked for safety reasons. As such their missile load out and heavy weapon had to be loaded before each sortie. An operation that would've taken the better part of a half hour on the Truman took less than a minute on the Saratoga.

"Loading completed," reported Tas after forty nine seconds. "Forward bays equipped with eight SIM-12A Starseeker short range missiles. Internal bays equipped with twelve SIM-122A Startiger medium range missiles. Under wing hard points equipped with ten SIM/P-122A missile pods. Internal weapons bay equipped with RG3A Twin Sword double cannon cylindrical railgun turret. Helium-3 fuel cells at full capacity," the VI listed; a common practice that ensured that the pilot knew exactly what he or she had mounted.

It still amazed her how much ordinance the Scimitar could carry. Between the various bays and pods she had eight short range and fifty two medium range missiles at her disposal, enough to single handedly take out almost half the standard compliment of Death Gliders a Ha'tak carried with missiles alone. Add to that a pair of pulse lasers, her two Thanix cannons and the Twin Sword turret and its eight-hundred rounds of ammunition and she could probably take out over a hundred of the snake carrying bastards before needing to resupply easy.

"Confirmed Tas. Begin start up procedures." Sonic could hear the powerful anti-proton thrusters coming to life around her, the slight vibration that made it though the inertial dampening field providing a comforting link to her old Hornet. A brief wave of what at first appeared to be yellow static washed over her canopy followed moments later by a blue shimmer as first the shields and then the kinetic barriers activated, wrapping her and Tas in two layers of protective energy.

With all systems online, she began taxiing her bird to the nearest runway with the aid of the various holographic indicators that appeared in her path; helpfully displayed by the Saratoga's VI. Though they could take off and land vertically like a Harrier, it had been discovered that the old runway method was more efficient for no other reason than they had greater momentum when exiting the bay, reducing the chances that one of them would hold up the fighter behind. She'd heard that they'd have some sort of catapult system on the new Nautilus Class Battlecruisers that were under construction but for now this system worked well enough. And Sonic sure as hell didn't want to win today's 'hold-up-cup'.

"This is control to all Scimitars," came the voice of the Saratoga's ATCO or Air Traffic Control Officer, Lieutenant Sterns. "We'll be dropping from hyperspace in one minute. Standby to launch."

"Confirmed control," replied Sonic, the adrenalin beginning to fill her veins. "Standing by to launch."

* * *

_Goa'uld Ha'tak_

_In Orbit of Erebus_

Vi'tor was a young Jaffa but that did not mean he was useless. Having shown proficiency for piloting a Death Glider from a young age, the fifty three year old warrior had earned the respect of many senior Jaffa over the years. Always a disciple of the great god Ba'al, Vi'tor had personally ended the lives of many of his god's enemies.

Still, when word of the Tau'ri's approach to the system was announced to the ship, Vi'tor couldn't suppress a spike of fear from flowing down his spine. Over the past half decade, the Tau'ri had become something of a legend among the Jaffa. Word, whispered for fear of attracting the wrath of the gods, spoke of the Tau'ri's powerful magics, of weapons that could swat Gliders out of the skies with ease. Of their weapons and their fearsome warriors that could leave entire Jaffa companies dead in moments. And of course there was the newest rumor, that they'd slaughtered the fleet Anubis, the most powerful of the gods, had sent against them.

Climbing into his Glider, Vi'tor wondered, for the first time in his career, whether he'd live to see another day. The communicator attached to the side of his head relayed the messages of the Jaffa master commanding the Ha'tak force, the First Prime of Ba'al himself, Master Ta'ror. He couldn't understand why the Tau'ri had dropped out hyperspace in the outer system. Why not simply attack them?

It wouldn't be long before he found out why.

* * *

_Bridge, USS Saratoga_

"Hyperspace jump complete," reported Lieutenant Ricks, the Saratoga's helmsman.

"Good, launch our fighters," ordered Emerson from his chair in the center of the room. Looking much like the Normandy's CIC in terms of architectural style, the bridge of the Saratoga had a more conventional layout with a massive holo-tank towards the back of the room and the various officers' stations near the front. Buried deep within the central pyramid beneath layers of armor, the entire room was shaped like a half sphere, holograms creating the illusion of the room being underneath a great geodesic dome looking out into space, a fact that scared the crap out of Anise before it was explained to her.

"I still do not completely understand your plan," said Anise for about the fifth time. "Why drop out of hyperspace in the outer system instead of closer to your target?"

"You'll see," replied Emerson with a shit-eating smile on his face as he stood and walked to the large chevron shaped holo-tank. The usual systems display of the Saratoga had been replaced by a hologram of the Erebus system. Two red icons appeared in orbit of the second planet indicating the location of their enemy counterparts, twelve smaller icons showing the locations of the orbital weapons platforms and a cloud tiny triangular prisms showing the locations of the enemy Death Gliders, their lack of any formation clear as day.

The icon representing the Saratoga appeared in green and appeared to be breeding small green triangular prisms and cubes of its own; each a Scimitar configured for space superiority or anti-shipping roles respectively.

"Sir," said Lieutenant Sterns from his console nearby, "all fighters launched. Awaiting your go order."

Taping an icon before him, Emerson broadcast his voice to the entire air wing. "This is Colonel Emerson to Swordsmen and Gunslingers. You're clear to proceed. Good hunting and god's speed."

"Rodger that Colonel," replied the voice of Sonic over the comm. "Initializing navlink. FTL in ten…"

The display showed the fighters pulling into a tight formation with the eight swordsmen forming a perfect line in the front; the Gunslingers forming three delta formations behind them. Red lines appeared connecting them together in an intricate network and a large number 5 imposed itself over the formation. It quickly counted down until it hit zero. The formation appeared to streak across the system, a dotted line appearing in its wake. A look of understanding appeared on Anise's face and a single thought crossed her mind, something Jacob had once said.

'They sure do things different downtown.'

* * *

Vi'tor was beginning to worry. His instincts were telling him that he was about to be attacked and they'd never failed him before. Throwing his glider into a deep dive, he barely missed being impaled by a small cylindrical object; the projectile passing close enough for its engine to partially melt his forward window. All around him his fellow Jaffa were dying and in moments, his sensor display showed that, of the two-hundred and forty Death Gliders that had made up the fighter screen for the Ha'taks, only forty nine remained.

Searching for targets, as his sensor display was now showing only static; he could just make out a cluster of dark grey enemies arranged in a line. There were eight of them trailing what appeared to be purplish particles from their rears. Throwing his fighter into a wild series of maneuvers, red beams and yellow streaks passing by his canopy at frightening speeds, Vi'tor was almost relieved as the enemy fighters passed by him.

Quickly getting into position behind one of the odd, Death Glider shaped fighters of the Tau'ri, the wreckage of his dead brethren clattering off his canopy like rain, he depressed the trigger sending bolts of the god's wrath at the enemy. The black fighter seemed to change shape slightly and suddenly it dropped away before his fighter, only one of his rounds hitting it, splashing harmlessly off a blue shimmering shield.

Chancing a look at his display, he couldn't believe what he saw. His was the only Death Glider left. Realizing his chances of survival against the Tau'ri nightmare craft were minimal; he pushed his fighter to full speed, diving for Erebus' atmosphere. He had just entered the air when an alarm sounded in his cockpit and a loud bang came from behind him, a massive jolt shaking the small fighter. Pulling back on the control, he realized that he had minimal control of his fighter.

He was going to crash!

* * *

"Hey Sonic, you're slipping," came the voice of her wingman over the comm.

"Shut it Bobcat," replied the slightly irate naval aviator. She had to admit, the pilot of the last glider had been pretty good, but he'd been outmatched in technology and skill by more than a fair amount. Switching to the general channel she said, "Teatime, your turn."

"Rodger that," replied the CO of their anti-shipping wing, which was hanging back, out of range of the slowly accelerating enemy warships. "All Gunslingers pick your targets and get ready. Remember, we want to leave their command ship intact until its commander flees to the surface."

Confirmation lights winked on his HUD. Focusing his vision on the other enemy Ha'tak, three lasers in his helmet following his eye movements; he tapped an icon on his control. His target selected, he watched as the networked VIs of his squadron sorted the missiles, assigning enough firepower to more than overwhelm their targets without wasting ammunition. It was a good system, a dynamic ad-hoc network that eliminated the need for an AWACS aircraft.

As if on cue a beam of white light appeared connecting one of the Ha'taks to the planet's surface, a pulse traveling along its length before disappearing. As soon as it did its targeting indicator turned from blue to red and no less than fifty anti-shipping missiles were reassigned to target it.

"Ok boys and girls, here we go. Gunslinger Prime, fox three."

From under his wings, ten SIM-1A Arbalest anti-shipping cruise missiles detached from their hard points, their powerful ion engines igniting sending them hurtling towards their targets. They were joined moments later by two hundred and thirty others, each carrying either a mark three tactical or mark eight strategic nuclear warhead. The hard points no longer in use, the mechanisms retracted into the wings, protecting the delicate power and data feeds from damage.

The Goa'uld must've realized the danger of the incoming missiles as they began blasting away with every weapon they had. However the missiles, each equipped with a low grade VI, easily dodged around the comparatively slow moving bolts of plasma, their reaction times measured in nano-seconds. As a result, only three of the two-hundred and forty missiles were destroyed en route to their targets.

The lead Goa'uld warship took the first hits, sixty three mark eight equipped missiles slamming into its shield and detonating. Seventy five gigatons of explosive power easily overwhelmed its shield and vaporized the vessel beneath, its brother joining it moments later as another fifty nine missiles erased it from existence.

The orbital weapons platforms, having much weaker shields were targeted by the less powerful mark three equipped missiles. Between eight and eleven missiles impacted each of the platforms, their one hundred and twenty five megaton warheads quickly shattering their defenses.

The Jaffa on the ground looked up as twelve small stars appeared in the night sky only a few seconds after two larger ones. To them it served as a sign.

The Tau'ri had come. And any Jaffa that stood against them was living on borrowed time.


	8. Comments & Questions Part One

I'd like to address a few of the comments made in the review section:

**Dusel:** If Earth was seen to be over reacting after SG-1's 'capture' then this was entirely on purpose. Yeah, a full invasion for the capture of three people was an overreaction, but a calculated one. It was designed to put the fear of god into the Goa'uld, not just Ba'al but the System Lords, the Free Jaffa and the Tok'ra as well. That said, they'll not be doing things like this often but they needed to make an example of someone and Ba'al in his infinite stupidity provided the perfect opportunity.

That said there is no way that Earth will become the Goa'uld. They don't commit genocide. They don't torture people (ignoring Gitmo). They don't perform medical experimentation. The Goa'uld, despite their medievalness were in every way as bad as the Nazis. It was just that it was toned down in the canon because there's only so much you can show on primetime without violating about fifty censorship rules.

This also provides Earth with a way of being seen as upholding their end of the Earth/System Lord treaty. Once Erebus is dealt with, and once Tartarus is captured, Ba'al will be weakened enough that he won't be able to defeat the System Lords outright and they'll grind each other down until their armies and navies are depleted and most of the Jaffa have rebelled. Then Earth will just clean up the left-overs. That' the general thinking on Earth and they even let the System Lords know their plans during the negotiations.

**Lord Of The Blood Moon:** I don't think Hammond necessarily trusted the Normandy at the beginning. More that he realized Earth had little left to lose and much to gain by working with them. Remember, there was a Goa'uld fleet consisting of dozens of enemy warships on its way. How much more damage could the Normandy have done than Anubis?

Look I know that rampant paranoia is the standard reaction we've come to expect from the military but Hammond always struck me as being a competent, level headed pragmatist. So he gave Sheppard what she wanted. And it turned out to be a good call.

That said I was a little shaky in my writing in the beginning. This is my first attempt at writing fiction. If I ever finish this story (knock on wood) and then revise it, I'll probably make Hammond a little more paranoid. Even I feel slightly awkward about Chapter One. That said, I wanted to get to the battle, not spend pages on dialogue as Sheppard tried to convince everyone of her good intentions.

**Sniper1250: **Sheppard has proven again and again throughout both Mass Effects to be committed to saving the galaxy at almost any cost. In this case, she sees the potential the tech 'bizarro' Earth has in the coming war against the Reapers. She's also hoping they may step in and provide support in that war. So yeah, she's willing to do almost anything to further her agenda. If that means helping this Earth then so be it. Besides, the Normandy can't excavate the Charon Mass Relay by herself, especially in the middle of a Goa'uld invasion. And without said relay, she's pretty much stuck in the local cluster.

Again I agree I may have rushed a few of the motivational explanations. I'll work on that in future chapters.

**For all those who are wondering who is alive and who isn't, Garrus, Grunt, Jack, Jacob, Mordin, Tali and Thane are alive. The Normandy's crew, with the exception of Joker and Dr. Chakwas were killed by the Collectors (that's what happens if you don't launch an immediate rescue after the Collector attack on the Normandy). Legion, Miranda, Samara and Zaeed were killed during the final mission.**


	9. Chapter Six Part Two Zero Hour

**Chapter Six – Zero Hour Part Two**

_Death Glider Crash Site_

_Erebus Wilderness_

_63km from Erebus Production Complex Outskirts_

Pain.

Pain was all he could feel.

As he opened his eyes, the reason for Vi'tor's pain became clear and he yelled out. The forward window of his Death Glider was shattered; the glass like material had broken into shards, some of which had embedded themselves in the young Jaffa's right arm. Ironically, the only part of the window still intact was the area that the Tau'ri weapon had melted, sticking out from the frame like a jagged knife blade.

Struggling against the pain, Vi'tor began crawling out of the broken fighter, being careful not to further injure himself on the sharp edges. After a few minutes he had succeeded and had limped his injured body to a nearby tree stump, the tree itself having been broken off by an impact with his fighter.

Pulling the glass shards from his arm, each covered in his blood, Vi'tor thought back to the moments before the crash.

He'd felt that impact of the enemy weapon and his fighter's controls had almost gone dead. Looking back at the remains of the once proud craft he could see why. Half the back end was missing, the area around what had to be the engine was blackened and twisted from the impact.

He'd managed to level his descent enough to skim the tree tops, a technique his father had taught him many years ago. At the time he'd scoffed; what could possibly harm him? After all, he had his god's blessing, an armor stronger than the strongest metals.

Shaking his head at the memory, a wry smile on his face, Vi'tor began assessing himself. Aside from the injuries to his arm and some very nasty bruises along his torso, he was intact. 'Perhaps my lord Ba'al was looking out for me after all,' the thought to himself. Checking his holster, he found that his zat'nik'tel had come though the crash intact. Removing the weapon and discharging it into a nearby tree confirmed its continuing functionality. That was good.

He would need it.

He knew the Tau'ri would come; that they would invade. Despite their own powerful craft, they would want the ships and materials here on Erebus. Otherwise they wouldn't have bothered securing orbit. They would've just bombed the planet and left.

Determined to continue the defense of this god's world, Vi'tor set off in what he believed was the direction of the production complex, hoping he would be able to slay at least one of his god's enemies along the way.

We don't always get what we wish for.

* * *

"Sir, our fighters have secured Erebus' orbit," reported the slender form of Major Jessica Takahashi, Colonel Emerson's XO. The daughter of an American businesswoman and a Japanese academic, her choice to join the Air Force fifteen years earlier had certainly raised some eye brows around the dinner table. Still you couldn't argue with results; thirty-three years old and the second in command of one of Earth's interstellar warships.

"Excellent," replied Emerson with a smile from his position at the holo-tank at the back of the bridge. "Jump us into orbit and make sure the shields are up as soon as we come out. I wouldn't put it past Ba'al to have a few surprises for us."

"Yes sir," she replied as she began issuing the appropriate orders. "Helm, plot intra-system hyperspace jump; destination: geosynchronous orbit of Erebus. Tactical, ready shields and point defenses. Activate them the second we drop out of subspace. We don't want to get caught with our pants down."

"Yes ma'am," replied Lieutenant Ricks as he began entering the necessary commands into the helm station. Plotting such a precise jump required putting the ship under the full control of the VI. The reason being that even the smallest mistake could lead to them slamming into something or even appearing inside the planet.

"Shields ready. GARDIAN lasers and countermeasures primed," added Lieutenant Commander Samuel Lyman, their tactical officer and an experienced Aegis operator off the Ticonderoga class USS Lake Erie. "I've also readied the electronic warfare system, just in case we need it."

"Good work Sam. Ricks, status?"

"Ready for jump."

"Good, commence jump," ordered Emerson.

Anise watched the whole scene with interest. The command structure in place on this vessel was unlike any she had been witness to before. The personnel lacked the ego and arrogance she'd come to expect from the Goa'uld and the fear and hesitation present in most humans was also absent. In its place was a confident professionalism and even friendships between the crew members, almost like a family but at the same time different. And their efficiency was amazing to the Tok'ra scientist.

The Saratoga, which had been orbiting the seventh planet in the Erebus system, a large Neptune-like gas giant, broke away and entered the twisting green-white maelstrom characteristic of a hyperspace window created by a drive based upon Asgard technology. Moments later she reappeared in orbit of Erebus, her shield quickly rising to surround her.

"Jump completed," reported Jessica after checking a nearby hologram.

"Good, begin rotating the fighters…," began Emerson before he was cut off.

"VAMPIRE, VAMPIRE, VAMPIRE. Incoming fire from the surface," yelled Sam just before the ship shuddered under several direct strikes.

"Move us out of range," ordered Emerson as he struggled to regain his seat over the weapons fire.

The Saratoga, now escorted by her fighters quickly came about, fleeing the massive yellow bolts coming from the surface. As she passed the seventy five thousand kilometer mark, the weapons stopped firing and the shaken warship came about.

"What the hell was that," demanded Emerson.

"It appears that our Intel was not entirely complete," replied Sam with a sigh. Then again when was it ever? "The enemy has an estimated twenty four surface to orbit cannons spread among the complex on the surface. From our readings they appear to be the same heavy cannons Ha'tak carry for orbital bombardment modified to function as a planetary defense system."

"Shit," cursed the Colonel, "anyone have any ideas?"

"Sir," replied the voice of Commander Igel over the comm, "I've been monitoring the situation. I would suggest an air strike against the weapons."

"No good," interrupted Takahashi. "Those things are spread amongst the entire complex, including the slave camps. If we use explosives…"

"Collateral damage," replied Jacob after a moment.

"I'm not suggesting we use explosives," replied Igel. "We have a supply of AGM-154s JSOWs on board modified to carry kinetic warheads. They should have the necessary accuracy to hit the targets and the kinetic warheads will have enough power to disable the guns without causing too much collateral damage."

"I like it. How soon can you be ready?"

"We'll be ready in a few minutes," replied the naval aviator, the loud clunks of the fighters landing on the resupply pads located along the outer hull heard and even slightly felt though the inertial dampening field. The system, called the 4RP or Rapid Rearmament, Refueling and Recharging Pad was a counterpart to the robotic systems located in the fighter bay. By allowing fighters to resupply without landing, the hanger crews could focus all of their attention on repairing damaged fighters and resupply operations became faster and more efficient.

"I'll take my squadron in," continued Sonic after she had completed the landing. "We might as well deal with the anti-air defenses while we're at it."

"She makes a good point," interjected Jacob. "Won't they get hit by the AA while entering the atmosphere?"

"I doubt it. Even if they enemy guns have the range, which I doubt as we'll be launching from ninety thousand feet," replied Igel over the comm, "I doubt they can hit us without either sophisticated targeting computers or SAMs."

"She's right," replied Emerson, "the biggest threat are the STO cannons. But those are designed to hit ships the size of this one, not fighters. They'll be fine."

"I hope so," said Jacob.

"So do I," added Emerson. "Tactical, begin scanning the surface. I want the precise numbers and locations on the targets. Also begin launching our drones. Those JSOWs won't be any good without a GPS system in place."

"Way ahead of you sir," replied Sam. "I've confirmed the location of all enemy STO and AA cannons. Counting twenty-five STO cannons and eighty-nine anti-aircraft sites. Beginning launch of the recon birds."

Along the outer ring of the Saratoga, dozens of small drones began easing their way out of their homes and towards the planet's orbit. Looking vaguely like a matt black RQ-4 Global Hawk, the S/RQ-112 Night Raven was the ultimate in rapid battlefield space support. Designed to provide an impromptu orbital surveillance, communications and GPS grid when fighting on other planets without one, the Raven was stealthy, quick and packed with the latest electronics courtesy of the Normandy; who provided the Air Force with the design in the first place. It was one of the few systems that they could begin building without a steady supply of eezo as the drone didn't use any for fear of being shot down and spreading dust form eezo into a planet's atmosphere, a definite health risk.

Minutes later the grid was in place. The Jaffa manning the sensors within Erebus' planetary defense control room quickly dismissed the scattered readings as more debris from the destroyed ships. It wasn't like there wasn't plenty to go around and besides, what possible threat could something that small possibly pose?

* * *

_Erebus Production Facility_

_Five Minutes Later_

Ta'ror stood in one of the numerous defensive outposts on the outskirts of the Erebus complex watching the debris from the orbital battle burn up as it reentered the atmosphere. He couldn't help but feel a little smug. While it was true that the heretics had managed to destroy the forces in orbit, it was only a small part of the battle. With the mighty banks of defense cannons, they were helpless to land. Even if they were willing to brave the guns to gain orbit and return fire, they would only end up destroying what they came to capture. And if they were to enter the atmosphere their shields would weaken and they would be destroyed.

Surprised to hear the shout of one of his underlings as he ran towards him, Ta'ror turned to the Jaffa messenger.

"Report!"

"My lord, sensors have picked up incoming enemy fighters. They appear to be heading for the atmosphere."

"Fools. Ready the anti air weapons. We shall shoot them out of the sky as they come close," replied the Jaffa master with a dark smile. The Tau'ri were fools if they thought they could get close enough to disable the guns. Already he could see the white lines the enemy craft were leaving in their wakes in the upper atmosphere.

After a few moments his confidence turned to confusion then panic. While the enemy fighters appeared to be holding altitude, dodging the feeble attempts the orbital cannons were making to shoot them down, numerous contrails separated and were rapidly descending. Turning to watch the complex from his position on the top of a small hill, he could see the anti-air guns had already begun spewing their fire in defense. But it was too little too late.

The AGM-154 Joint Standoff Weapon, normally designed to shower its targets with explosive bomblets had been modified by Raytheon for precision high altitude strikes before being supplied to the Air Force; specifically for the F-302B project. Their warheads, essentially tungsten rods, would shatter their targets using sheer kinetic force. This essentially made the missiles oversized guided bullets. And it was more than enough.

The AA sites and everything within five meters disappeared in explosions of dirt. The STO cannons, being better armored were not completely destroyed but rather disabled, the sheer kinetic energy mangling them into uselessness. Within moments Erebus had lost its anti-air defenses and already Ta'ror could see the enemy fighters descending towards them.

"Jaffa, kree," yelled Ta'ror, raising his staff weapon to the sky. While not likely to hit, the sheer weight of fire should've been enough to discourage the enemy fighters from coming any closer. However to his amazement he could see the few shots that hit absorbed by a shimmering blue field. The reports had been true and the enemy's fighters were shielded! From the complex behind him Death Gliders and Al'kesh rose into the air to give challenge but it wasn't even close to enough. Blood red beams, yellow bolts and white smoke trailing projectiles tore into the Jaffa craft raining debris down upon the heads of the defenders. In the distance Ta'ror could see the enemies' Ha'tak descending to land in a field almost seventy kilometers away.

But for the moment that was the least of his problems. A group of Kull numbering almost fifty began spraying plasma fire into the sky from a position nearby. What happened next shocked him to his core.

One of the enemy fighters streaked over their heads and dropped some sort of object. As he watched it appeared to fall apart spreading a cloud of greenish gas over that section of the battlefield. Then there was a loud bang and a massive pressure wave as the entire cloud caught fire.

Ta'ror couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed. Fifty Kull, the mighty warriors created by Anubis and now commanded by his god were laying in pieces before him, their near indestructible armor doing nothing to prevent them from being torn asunder with almost casual ease. With their targets destroyed, the enemy fighters banked away, heading for their descending mothership. In their wake they'd left the orbital cannons, the anti-air guns and many of the staff towers in ruins. Worse, he'd lost hundreds of warriors and at least fifty Kull without a single enemy casualty.

Ta'ror had always mocked the Jaffa of the other gods for their seeming inability to stop the rising Tau'ri menace. Now he'd wished he had been more forgiving. But more than that he realized something fundamental.

This was going to be a very difficult battle.

* * *

As the Ha'tak began final landing checks, Colonel Elias McNulty was conducting the final pre-battle briefing for his senior commanders.

"Remember, the objectives are four-fold. One: secure the safety of the slaves being held on this planet. Now according to the reports, they may or may not be willing to go along with your forces. Some of the poor bastards have really bought into the 'gods' thing and are brainwashed beyond anything we'll be able to do for them here. In that case just stun the troublemakers with a zat and have someone carry them to safety."

"How many slaves are we expecting," asked Major Rick Seaborne, a Marine originally from the Thirteenth Marine Expeditionary Unit and McNulty's XO, a compromise considering the off-world combat brigades were mixed forces from all four branches of the military.

"At least twelve thousand," replied the Colonel grimly. Like most Americans, the concept of slavery evoked a very unpleasant feeling when it was even discussed. Now they were going to be presented with it face to face, an experience none of them were looking forward to.

"Damn, that's a lot of people to rescue," commented Commander Tobias Bartlett, part of the Navy SEAL team deployed to this mission for 'special' actions.

"No kidding. It's going to be a bitch. I assume we're to secure them in place until we deal with the Jaffa," said Seaborne with a grimace. Controlling panicky people after eliminating their captors, usually by blowing holes in them wasn't ever an easy assignment.

"Yes," confirmed the Colonel, "and we're expecting them to be in pretty bad shape too. Ba'al has begun using human slaves here alongside the Jaffa. Originally only the Jaffa could survive the conditions in the mines for any amount of time. I guess the bastard just stopped caring. Anyway, objective two should be an obvious one: neutralize any enemy opposition."

"What about the Jaffa we capture or who surrender?" asked Major Markus Rodrigo, of the United States Army.

"They are to be treated with compassion and mercy and most importantly, they are to be accorded all the protections of the Geneva Accords as prisoners of war. This comes straight from the top," replied McNulty. "We've been given clearance to do a lot of things we're not usually allowed to do including using land mines and cluster bombs. But, and I want you all to impress this upon all the soldiers under your command; we are members of the United States Armed Forces. We will act within the guidelines that have been set out for us for the past century. We don't torture. We don't murder. We don't pillage. We are better than the enemy. And anyone who isn't up to those standards will face the consequences. Clear?"

"Yes sir," chorused the assembled men.

"Good. Now objective three is to secure as much enemy war material as possible. Priorities include the anti-gravity dry docks, factory complexes, warehouses and any Al'kesh bombers and Tel'tak cargo ships. That said; obviously don't blow the crap out of anything if you don't have to. I want to have plenty of salvage to send back home when this is over."

"Do you think the Jaffa will resort to a scorched earth policy?" asked Bartlett.

"No. This planet and its facilities are as important to them as they are to us; perhaps more so. So no they won't intentionally compromise the facilities if they don't have to. Now as for our fourth objective; we have to capture the Stargate as quickly as possible or we'll be neck deep in enemy reinforcements. Major Rodrigo, assign some armor to blitz to the target and establish a perimeter. Have them use the gate shield to keep the enemy from sending anyone through."

"I'll send a tech geek along to take care of that," replied the Major with a smirk.

"Good. Any questions?"

"What is our policy on the enemy Kull?"

"Eliminate them on sight and preferably from a distance. Those things are deadly up close. And don't hesitate to call in air or artillery support against them. Also, we've tested our new small arms against captured examples of their armor and while it takes a few hits, they will punch though. If you set your weapons to armor piercing mode you should be able to rip though those black clad bastards pretty quickly."

"Understood sir," replied Major Seaborne, happy with the answer he'd received. Their brigade didn't have many anti-Kull disruptors and there were almost two thousand of the bastards in their way.

"Any other questions? No? Ok then good luck and good hunting. Dismissed."

* * *

Vi'tor had seen the enemy's fighters and heard the massive explosion in the distance. He also realized he was close to the enemy's landing site. Skulking though the forest towards the large clearing, the Jaffa pilot hoped that he would be able to gather enough intelligence to provide his fellow Jaffa with an advantage over the invaders.

Finding a position near the edge of the landing field, Vi'tor took in the sight before him. Clearly the Tau'ri had modified the Ha'tak to a significant degree. It was just coming in for a landing and he could see dozens of small feet emerging from hatches all along the bottom of the pyramid. As it settled, doors began opening along the base of the central structure forming ramps that led into some sort of bay and machines began rolling out.

Vi'tor had seen pictures of the machines the humans of Earth sent through the Chaapa'ai. They would roll along the ground on wheels and treads and in this regard, the machines before him showed some commonalities with the small probes. These however were far more dangerous looking mounting what were clearly powerful weapons of some sort. He could make out at least six different types.

The largest had treads and a massive weapon jutting out the front of a turret. They were escorted by smaller, boxier machines with shorter, stubbier cannons, slightly larger machines with the look of a boat, four wheels on each side and a small turret on the top and four wheeled vehicles that had a manned turret. Behind them came two other types of vehicles, ones with a massive gun that looked like it could rip even an Al'kesh in half with one shot and the others with a large box on their back.

Without comprehension he watched the vehicles milling about before they formed up into various formations and headed towards the tree line. They quickly began filing though the relatively wide trail that led towards the complex. When they'd all but disappeared into the forest, more doors began opening on the pyramid, further up. From those came strange aircraft, clearly pilotless. The white machines quickly ascended into the sky, disappearing from view.

Moments later Vi'tor could hear a strange noise coming from the Ha'tak as even more doors opened; those he recognized as the bays for Tel'taks. A loud chopping sound unlike any Vi'tor had ever heard began to emanate, growing quickly in intensity. From the bays more strange craft appeared, massive whirling blades attacked to their tops, and a smaller blade on their tails. He could make out three different kinds, one of which appeared to be loaded with enemy soldiers, some of whom had their feet handing out the doors on the sides.

Vi'tor continued to observe for a few more minutes. In that time even more machines emerged from the bottom of the craft, these clearly not meant for combat. They began clearing away a long stretch though the formerly pristine meadow, flattening and compacting the ground for no reason he could observe. All the while the enemy's nightmare fighters were hovering in formation above the tainted warship, landing in groups on illuminated pads set into the dorsal structure.

Having seen more than enough, Vi'tor faded back into the forest and began making his way towards the rest of his people.

He thought he'd been stealthy. He thought the enemy would never see him.

He thought wrong.

* * *

Having seen the enemy Ha'tak land, Ta'ror began readying his forces to repel any attack they could bring to bear. Thousands of Jaffa and hundreds of Kull formed into a massive column that began marching towards the forest the Tau'ri would have to pass though on their way to attack.

After about an hour his brigade had set up position atop a large hill approximately one kilometer from the forest's edge. Here they would wait and slaughter the Tau'ri as they came out of the trees. He knew the Tau'ri would have the advantage in ranged combat but the sheer wave of firepower from the thousands of staff weapons would compensate for their lack of accuracy.

And so they waited, secure in hastily dug fox holes. After a half hour many of the men were beginning to get irritable; their complaints about the enemy's lack of attack growing increasingly tiresome to the Jaffa master. Then he could hear it, a faint chopping sound. Clearly he wasn't the only one as other Jaffa began looking around; wondering what was causing the odd noise.

Turning his attention back to the tree line, Ta'ror was just in time to see them emerge, dozens of immense machines. Above them hovered more machines with whirling blades, the source of the noise.

There was a loud boom and a position ninety five meters to his left exploded, the dozen Jaffa in that fox hole blown apart by one of the machines in the front, a smoky red trail leading from the muzzle of its cannon to the former Jaffa position. A massive wave of staff fire began raining down upon the enemy machines but to no avail. Glowing yellow force fields protected the bigger ones and the smaller ones behind them were well armored.

As he watched the smaller ones began disgorging soldiers and all around Jaffa began dropping to the ground, massive bloody holes being blown in their heads and torsos. Explosions dotted his line as the ground destroyers, as he had come to think of the machines, continued to fire.

For the first time in his life, Ta'ror felt true fear.

* * *

_M1A3 Abrams Advanced Main Battle Tank, Sand Shrew_

_Captain Reinhart Adler Commanding_

Captain Reinhart Adler came from a proud line of tank commanders or 'tankers' going all the way back to the Second World War. His grandfather, one of the few German officers to serve in the United States Army as a tank commander during that war and was known as one of the most deadly officers of the Army's First Armored Division. His father had served in Vietnam commanding an old M48 Patton.

As for Reinhart, he'd decided when he'd turned eighteen to follow in their footsteps and join the army to command a tank. He'd fought in Desert Storm in '91 as a young, too young if you asked his old man, tank gunner. Now thirteen years later here he was in one of the most deadly weapons ever created by human hands about to engage an enemy that threatened his entire world.

The M1A3 Abrams MBT had been the brainchild of some forward thinking designer at Area 51, long before the SSV Normandy had graced their world. The design shared many commonalities with the A2, which was still in service and still made up the majority of the Abrams on Earth. She still mounted both her .50 caliber machine gun and both her turreted and coaxial 7.62mm machine guns. She still used the same transmission and suspension. And she still needed four men to operate her.

But the M1A3 was an entirely different beast altogether to command. Based around the improvements developed for the upcoming Tank Urban Survival Kit for the A2, the A3 employed many new features such as a remote control weapons station for the commander's .50-cal, a gun shield on the loader's machine gun, and additional armor tiles on both the back and the side, now made of that new naquadah/trinium super alloy along with the rest of the armor. Still that wouldn't make the A2 into an A3. No what did that was mostly what was 'under the hood'.

Gone was the old gasoline engine, replaced with an electric motor powered by a small, specially designed naquadah reactor. If he'd read the specs of the thing correctly, it could put out enough power to support an entire town, something he was still having problems coming to terms with. With there being no need to carry fuel anymore, the old five hundred gallon fuel tank had been replaced with a shield generator.

As if that wasn't good enough, the entire main turret had been reworked. Gone was the old 120mm smoothbore cannon, replaced with a 25mm railgun. Damned thing could shoot rounds at mach thirty; six times the velocity of the old gun. The radical leap in muzzle velocity more than made up for the smaller ammunition; easily matching or exceeding the power of the older, larger rounds. And as a bonus they could carry ten times the ammo as the older models. Add to that a pair of pop out missile pods on either side of the turret that could fire some of those new M-77 micro-missiles, an addition since the Normandy had shown up, and you got a tank that was just as much of a threat to low flying aircraft as it was to anything on the ground.

The heavy metal music blasting through the small crew compartment, something that his gunner had introduced and that Reinhart had grown to like set the perfect backdrop for the upcoming battle. Their assignment, once the upcoming enemy line was dealt with, was to push forward and secure the Stargate. To that end, they were being escorted by another two Abrams, five Bradleys and six Strykers, all under his command. It was a good mission, well suited to his skills and temperament which had been described as 'fiery' by more than one girlfriend in the past.

As the Sand Shrew emerged from the tree line, all thoughts of his mission temporarily vanished from his mind as a truly massive barrage of plasma began raining down upon his tank. Checking the shield monitor, he thanked god for the energy barrier surrounding him and his crew.

"Holy shit," breathed his gunner, Sergeant Michael Torres, summing up Reinhart's thoughts succinctly.

"Well they've gotten in the first shot. Let's return the favor," replied the amused German-American with an evil smile. "Load high explosive. Target: enemy bunker at bearing zero two two, elevation zero one three. Distance one thousand eighteen meters."

"Round loaded," replied Torres, the new auto-loader quickly slotting the deceptively small projectile into the pre-firing chamber.

"Fire!"

The air around the main gun of the Sand Shrew seemed to shimmer for a moment, the massively powerful magnetic field created by the gun creating enough of a disturbance to manifest into the visible spectrum. With a thundering boom the small projectile was sent hurtling towards its target. Crossing the distance in 0.09 seconds, leaving a trail of red hot vapor in its wake from air friction; the projectile embedded itself within the hill before detonating, blowing a ten meter crater where the Jaffa position had once stood.

"Target destroyed."

Reinhart was about to issue another order when the voice of Colonel McNulty interrupted him. "All ground forces, hold position. Artillery, begin bombardment of enemy position. All Black Hawks; move to a position one kilometer behind the enemy and drop your troops, Cobras in support. Cut off any retreat. Also, all forces, our drones have identified the enemy command bunker. Do not attack it. We've identified Ba'al's first prime in there and I want him alive."

"Rodger that," replied Reinhart, knowing the BattleNet VIs would recognize his reply and convert it into a confirmation signal. Meanwhile…

"We have a group of Kull in the open, bearing zero eight three, elevation zero zero five. Distance nine four one. Load tungsten flechette round."

"Ready."

"Fire!" yelled the commander, watching in satisfaction as the hypersonic, razor-sharp shards ripped apart ten of the abominations.

* * *

Colonel McNulty watched the battle from just inside the tree line, having exited his M1209 Command and Control Vehicle to get a good look at the battle for himself. Around him, the booming thunder of artillery threatened to overwhelm his senses. It was a familiar sound, comforting as much as saddening.

The enemy was out matched, no two ways about it. Even before his forces had engaged them, the orbiting drones had all but completely scouted the entirety of the battlefield, from the Jaffa's forward position to the complex almost fifty kilometers away. They'd tagged every Kull warrior, identified every heavy weapon position and even identified all the enemy commanders, helpfully identifiable by the metal symbols cut into their foreheads.

Now the Jaffa forces were surrounded. Artillery was pounding every potential problem spot, focusing on the Kull especially. Their armor was ripping into them with tungsten flechette and high explosive rounds from beyond their effective range, infantry was picking the Jaffa off with sniper rifles and assault rifles and the Scimitars and Apaches were raining down bombs and missiles by the dozens.

And retreat wasn't an option. More infantry, dropped off behind the enemy's lines by their Black Hawks and supported by both the Cobras and the Black Hawk's gatling guns had enveloped the field behind the Jaffa. Already they were reporting dozens of Jaffa surrendering at gun point. Overall this battle looked to be coming to a close.

"Sir," reported his assistant, Lieutenant Stevens, "the enemy lines are breaking."

"Right, I'm coming," replied the Colonel with a sigh. He was getting too old for this shit.

Entering the cramped command vehicle, Elias quickly moved to the large holotable that took up most of the internal space. Red dots representing enemy warriors were flooding backwards towards the airborne troops. "Order the artillery, choppers and fighters to cease fire and have our armor move up. What's the status on the Kull?"

"We've eliminated them all."

"Good. What about the enemy command bunker?"

"It's one of the few areas that is not surrendering. There are about a hundred Jaffa holding fast between the bunker and the nearby fox holes."

"Send in a platoon and have them capture the enemy commanders," ordered McNulty with a frown. He had hoped to avoid close combat until they took the production complex.

"Yes sir," replied Stevens as he relayed the orders.

* * *

Ta'ror wheezed as the thick acrid smoke seemed to get even thicker. The moans and screams of the wounded surrounded him, threatening his sanity. Blood rolled down the side of his face from a gash just above his right temple; the result of a piece of flying shrapnel.

Never, NEVER had battle been this bad. He'd led hundreds of ground campaigns and he'd never taken the kind of casualties that had just been handed to him. At least never so quickly. The Kull were dropping like flies as it seemed that the Tau'ri were specifically targeting them, their armor doing little to stop the enemy weapons. The rain of explosives from the enemy whirl-craft and the great guns had shattered his lines and even retreat had become an impossibility as more of the whirl-craft had dropped warriors well behind his lines.

He was contemplating a new strategy when it all stopped. All the fire, the noise; it just stopped, aside from the occasional sounds of staff weapons firing.

"My lord, why have they stopped?" asked a young warrior to his right, his left arm a bloody stump.

"I know not," replied Ta'ror. Why was the enemy not finishing them off?

One of the whirl-craft, having set down near the tree line hovered over to just above Ta'ror's bunker, perhaps a hundred feet above his head. An older looking human in a set of the strange armor these Tau'ri used opened one of the doors on the side. He made eye contact with Ta'ror for a few seconds, staff fire splashing harmlessly off the energy field surrounding the aircraft. Reaching inside, the human picked up a strange white device, shaped like a hollow cone and began speaking into it, his voice being amplified many times.

"This is Colonel Elias McNulty, United States Army. You are outnumbered, outgunned and out flanked. Surrender and you will be treated fairly."

Ta'ror couldn't believe what he was hearing. These… these monsters had the audacity to demand his surrender! They had slaughtered thousands of his brothers, defiled his god's world and now they actually expected him to surrender? Never!

"Continue firing," screamed the Jaffa first prime, pouring firing into the hovering aircraft, which quickly sped away. The ground around him began trembling as the enemy ground destroyers advanced on and bypassed his position, several of the boat-like ones stopping only a few dozen meters away and disgorged their soldiers. The Tau'ri were being cautious, hiding behind their machines. Well almost all of them. Ta'ror watched as several of the enemy stepped out into the open, a fierce barrage of fire causing his warriors to take cover. They lifted strange looking weapons into the air and fired.

The world exploded in a blast of intense noise and light, disorienting the aging Jaffa master. Trying to clear his head, he was suddenly slammed face first into the ground, a foot on his back holding him down. His hands were roughly grabbed and something pressed them together in a crushing grip, pinning them together behind his back.

As his vision returned, he could see almost a dozen enemies in his command post, his fellow Jaffa having been treated much the same as he. Already the enemy soldiers were prodding his warriors to their feet and marching them out of the bunker.

A sharp pain came as one of the enemies slammed the muzzle of his odd looking weapon into Ta'ror's shoulder. The one responsible demanding, "Get up! Move!" as he continued to hit him with the point of his rifle.

Ta'ror stood, and stumbled out of the bunker, the forced march taking him towards the tree line along with the rest of his senior commanders, away from the remaining Jaffa survivors.

The small group approached a strange looking vehicle, painted in greens so as to blend in with its surrounding environment. He could make out no armament but it was covered with numerous odd antennae and domes. Standing beside the vehicle, along with several guards, was the human that had demanded his surrender.

Ta'ror tried to surge forwards and attack the insolent man but was held back by one of his guards, the man's strength surprising. Watching the spectacle, the human simply chuckled before stating, "You are a prisoner of war and as such you are entitled to all the protections laid down under the Geneva Conventions of 1949. You will not be tortured or subjected to any further physical harm. You will receive food, water and any medical aid you may require and will be released at the end of our conflict with the Goa'uld. Do you understand?"

"I care not for your words human hasshak," replied Ta'ror, his companions rumbling in agreement behind him.

"Quite frankly I don't care," replied McNulty with a shrug. "We don't need anything from you. The only reason you're here and not with the rest of the captured Jaffa is because you are a commanding officer and that makes the likelihood of rebellion greater if you are with your men."

"What have you done to them?"

"They're being held in a nearby field. They've been stripped of their weaponry and are under the guns of several of our vehicles. The injured are receiving medical attention. Once we capture the Stargate they'll be sent through to a prison camp where they will remain until the end of our conflict with the Goa'uld Empire or until we decide to return them, whichever comes first. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a battle to attend to."

Ta'ror was still yelling profanities at the human even after he was loaded onto one of the whirl-craft to be taken back to the enemy's Ha'tak.

For him, the battle was over.

* * *

Vi'tor was sure he was being followed. He could feel the eyes the hunters on his back, caressing him and causing his hairs to stand on end. Yet no matter what he did, no matter how he tried to evade, they stayed with him.

He was coming up to a clearing. He had heard the explosions in the distance followed by an almost sickening silence. He was too late to help the Jaffa that had undoubtedly tried to hold off the enemy at the forest's edge. But maybe his knowledge could help the rest of his fellows at the complex.

He had crossed half-way though the clearing when it happened. One second he was alone. The next he was surrounded by enemy soldiers, wearing strange clothing made of scraps of cloth and bits of plant detritus.

"FREEZE!" yelled one of the soldiers, his face covered with a mixture of what appeared to paint in greens and browns. Vi'tor's hand twitched towards his zat'nik'tel before he thought better of it.

"Good choice," continued the ghoulish human soldier, his fellows moving to surround him, their small but undoubtedly deadly weapons never wavering. "Drop your weapon and kick it towards me."

Vi'tor did as he was instructed, having no other choice but death. The lead human picked the small snake like weapon up and tucked it into his combat vest before continuing, "Now place your hands on the back of your head, fingers interlocked."

Vi'tor did and within a few seconds he could feel cold metal manacles being attached to his wrists as they were yanked down to the small of his back.

"Identify yourself."

"I am Vi'tor, son of Mas'tab. And you?"

"I am a United States Navy SEAL. Beyond that is none of your business. Now what are you doing skulking though this forest?"

"I was returning to the rest of my people. I had crashed my death gliders near your Ha'tak."

"And you took the opportunity to spy on us undoubtedly," added the human leader.

"Yes I did. You are the enemy and I was only doing my duty."

"It wasn't a judgment, just a confirmation," replied the soldier before adding, "And I respect that you came right out and said it. But enough of that, you're now our prisoner," said the man, reaching into one of the numerous pockets of his vest and retrieving a small strip of plastic. He walked over to Vi'tor and attached it to his armor. He stepped back, touched a small button on his inner arm and to the Jaffa's amazement, an image materialized around it. The soldier tapped in a few commands and Vi'tor disappeared in a flash of light.

When the light had disappeared he realized he was in a prison cell along with several other Jaffa including, to his shock Master Ta'ror.

The old Jaffa approached him and demanded, "Who are you?"

"I am Vi'tor master. I was assigned to command one of the death gliders flying off your Ha'tak. When the battle in orbit was lost I headed for the surface but was unable to land before being shot down. I crashed near the enemy's landing site and was returning to report on what I had seen when I was captured."

The old Jaffa mulled that over for a moment, the silence prompting Vi'tor to ask, "How were you captured master?"

"The Tau'ri overwhelmed our forces at the edge of the forest. They used strange machines, some of which flew and others on the ground. Before long we were outflanked and I was captured."

A long silence descended over the room. Everyone, even the relatively junior Vi'tor knew that without Ta'ror's leadership, this world would fall quickly to the enemy. Lord Amun, though a competent administrator was useless when it came to commanding a military force and would be no match for the skilled warriors of Earth.

"Can we possibly escape?" asked Vi'tor after a second.

Instead of replying, Ta'ror simply approached the seemingly open door to the small room they were in and tried to push his hand out of the room, a force field quickly blocking his movement. Looking around Vi'tor noticed that the walls seemed to be made out of one piece of metal; no visible seams or cracks or vents evident. The only break in the metal was for the light fixtures above their heads but even the transparent covering seemed to merge seamlessly into the surrounding metal.

"We are trapped here," declared Ta'ror with a sigh, "helpless and weaponless. Soldiers guard this complex and there is no way to lower the force field except from outside. Like it or not, this battle will not be decided by either of us young one. It is in the hand of others."

* * *

Lord Amun was one of the many that had tried and failed to defeat Ba'al. Three centuries ago he had risen up in rebellion, one which the smug bastard had quickly and efficiently crushed. Amun had been stripped of his domain and Jaffa and forced into virtual slavery. For that was the fate of those that defied Ba'al. He didn't kill his Goa'uld enemies and rarely even tortured them. No he made them work for him.

Over the decades Amun had regained much power and through his hard work and skill had risen to become the commander of Erebus, one of Ba'al's most important worlds. However today he wished he had never regained his position.

When Ta'ror had come through the Stargate with the news of an impending invasion, the Goa'uld lord hadn't been unduly worried. Even the Tau'ri couldn't hope to overwhelm the defenses he'd spent more than a year perfecting.

When the first missiles had begun raining down upon his facilities, he began to get worried. In moments his mighty defense grid had been reduced to rubble. Even his most optimistic projections showed that it would take weeks to restore the grid to even partial functionality.

Still he had hope that Ta'ror would be able to stop the invaders before they breeched the remaining defenses. He had observed by use of a remote drone, one of the many inventions that that fat prick Nerus had developed, as his forces were slaughtered. Ta'ror had taken almost fifteen thousand Jaffa and seven hundred Kull with him. And according to his best estimates, no more than two thousand of those Jaffa had survived, and none of the Kull. Even worse, the enemy, while they look casualties, wasn't even slowing their advance.

Like many of his race, Amun's own survival came first and foremost to his mind. He contemplated taking one of the Alkesh and making a break for it, but we knew he would be shot down before he even made it out of the atmosphere. The Stargate was out, a group of Tau'ri vehicles was rapidly approaching its location and he wouldn't have a chance to use it before they arrived. He knew hiding was useless as the Tau'ri would likely level the whole complex before they left, after taking anything they wanted.

He considered ordering the complex destroyed as an act of vengeance but even if he did and even if he survived, neither the humans nor Ba'al would be forgiving of such an act. So he only had one real option: surrender. He knew the Jaffa wouldn't obey such an order and he also realized they and the Kull would only slow the Tau'ri down a little. So he would trade information for his life and hope that would be enough to stop the humans of the first world from killing him or even worse, turning him over to the Tok'ra for extraction.

Such was the life of a minor Goa'uld. And these days those lives were getting more and more dangerous.

* * *

"Sir, we're fifteen minutes out," reported McNulty's driver. The colonel acknowledged the private driving his command vehicle and turned back to the after-action mini-briefing he was holding with his commanders over the secure communications network.

"What are our casualties?"

"We got off very light," replied Major Seaborne with a grin. "About a half-dozen wounded and no fatalities. This new armor is really worth the money. Automatic medical systems kept the worst hit alive until we could evac them to the Saratoga's sick bay. According to the docs they should all pull through and make full recoveries."

That was a load off Elias' mind. Even after all these years, loosing people under his command was hard. "What about the enemy?"

"They're not so lucky. Of the fifteen thousand, two hundred and eighty five Jaffa that made up the enemy line, only two thousand, three hundred ninety are alive, and about two hundred of those won't survive the night. We've giving the worst off painkillers to ease the suffering. They also lost all seven hundred fifty five Kull warriors that engaged our forces. Add those numbers to the estimated fifty we took out in the initial wave of air strikes and the enemy is down to about twelve hundred."

"We'll that's more like it," replied the colonel, a rare smile appearing on his weathered features. Their tactical projections showed that they would manage to take out most of those monstrosities during the assault on the complex's perimeter defenses but that a large number of the things would retreat to among the buildings. Casualties from close combat, where the Kull's plasma repeaters would have the accuracy to overwhelm their armor's kinetic barriers quickly were expected to be unpleasantly high. Less of them defending the complex meant fewer casualties.

"What are we looking at in terms of defenses?"

"Well the airstrike took out the STO cannons and the AA emplacement so we have complete air superiority, especially now that the enemy has stopped launching their aircraft. We also took out most of the staff towers so they are mainly limited to turreted light staff cannons and small arms. They've got a series of trenches dug along the perimeter along with some light bunkers, mostly dirt and grass for camouflage. One would think they were reading our own textbooks when it came to defenses," joked Rick with a smirk.

"Not that unrealistic really," replied Elias, matching his XO's grin. "They can pick up our broadcasts as well as anyone. Probably got it from watching Band of Brothers."

"Well in any regard, it's not a particular obstacle. We can… one moment sir," continued the Major, turning to one of his subordinates for a moment. "Right, got it. Sir, I've just received confirmation. Captain Adler has taken the Stargate. He's got the gate shield up and the deactivation code has been changed."

"Excellent. Order the captain to dial Earth and update them on our status."

"Yes sir, he already is. We should be receiving a signal any time now."

True to his word, a signal from Stargate Command quickly joined the conference, the face of General O'Neill filling the window. "Howdy campers! What the good word?"

"General, we've secured orbit and are moving in on the complex as we speak," reported McNulty with a barely suppressed grin as the general's antics. "Have you received any news on SG-1?"

"As a matter of fact…," began the general, his grin turning from 'I read a funny comic' mode to 'I'm about to order another star blown up' mode. Moments later the face of Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter appeared on the screen, no worse for wear.

"How are your sir," she asked before taking a sip of coffee.

"Not too bad colonel," replied McNulty with a big sigh of relief. SG-1's fate was always the biggest Achilles Heel of this whole endeavor. "What about you and the rest of SG-1?"

"You want to tell him…," asked O'Neill from off screen.

"Sure," replied Carter before she turned back to the screen. "We were never captured by Ba'al; it was just a bluff on his part. We were trapped in Anubis' underground base when the rings malfunctioned. We could get in just fine. It was getting out that was the tricky part. We just got back an hour ago."

"Well alright then," replied McNulty with a bemused laugh. "General, what are our orders?"

"Continue with the mission. I made it clear to Ba'al that either he returned SG-1 or he lost Erebus. Capture the facility and begin stripping it of anything useful. Anything that can fit through the Stargate goes to the Beta Site. Anything that can hyperspace goes to Earth the direct way after being loaded up to capacity. According to our intel, the closest space borne force that Ba'al has that can pose a realistic threat to you is six days out. You have that long to grab everything not bolted down and use bolt cutters on everything else."

"Is the Delta Site ready to receive prisoners and refugees?"

"It will be in about four hours yes," replied O'Neill after consulting with someone off screen.

"Well I doubt we will have captured the complex that quickly. The place is enormous."

"Understood. I'll await your report after you finish securing the place. Stargate Command out," concluded the general as his image disappeared.

"Ok you heard the general everyone. SG-1 is safe and secure and the mission is still on. Let everyone in your commands know the good news."

Only moments later the comm channels were filled with cheering and singing and McNulty's smile was still there.

Maybe this mission would turn out alright after all.

* * *

_Erebus Production Complex_

_Five Hour Later_

Five hours. It had taken five fucking hours.

Five hours of artillery bombardment. Five hours of securing buildings. Of dodging from structure to structure, of careful, slow progression through cramped, darkened hallways. And they still weren't finished.

For Corporal Ramon Fernandez it had been both exciting and unpleasant, mostly the latter. He and his fire team had been involved in dozens of actions over the past hours.

It had begun almost forty five minutes after the initial contact with the complex's defenders. For forty five minutes the bastards had held firm, wave after wave of reinforcements moving to the loose trench network that had been hastily prepared to defend against the invaders.

Still eventually the reinforcements had begun to waver, the constant procession of Jaffa and Kull eventually slowing to a bare trickle, just as the Colonel knew it would. 'There must have been thousands of the bastards rushing to the defense of this place,' thought the Corporal. But their numbers hadn't been infinite.

They had forced a breech in the enemy lines. First one, then two, then in a dozen places. Ramon had been in the back of a Stryker at the time, operating the remote weapons turret. The eight wheeled vehicle had simple driven over the enemy lines. It, along with about a dozen other vehicles had made a beeline towards the slave camps.

Ramon shuttered at that thought. He'd seen pictures of the concentrations camps of the Second World War. The camps here reminded him of those images. The whole place had been surrounded by a fence, the bodies of the few that had tried to escape still rotting, tangled up in the razor wire. The buildings that housed the poor souls that had been shipped here were flimsy things made of dirt and wood with no insulation whatsoever. Giving the temperatures here on Erebus it must have gotten cold in there at night. The number of people assigned to those buildings was almost as bad as their poor construction. Dozens had been crammed in each one with barely any room to lie down at night.

Sanitation was almost non-existent and what passed for food was a joke. Some of the slaves looked like the starving refugees of Africa, the kind you see on those World Vision commercials on TV. Many were injured as well; whip marks, bruises from beatings, cuts and scrapes, many of which were infected. Some had lost limbs in accidents and hadn't even received the most basic of care.

And it wasn't just men in these camps. Unlike the Nazis, the Goa'uld apparently didn't care about things like gender or age. There had been men and women in the camps, some as young as eight or as old as eighty five. Little girls covered in mud and cuts and bruises.

Ramon still had the image of one of those little girls in his mind. She was practically skin and bones, maybe twelve years old. She was wearing a torn, ratty dress that barely provided any protection from the climate. When he and his fire team had found her, she was being used as a human shield by a particularly cowardly Jaffa guard and was scared to death.

Ramon didn't remember what had happened next but his next memory was of the guard dropping to the ground, a blood oozing stump where his head used to be attached to his neck. The little girl was covered in bits of bone and brain matter. She was shivering, scared to death of him and when he looked down he realized his rifle was still smoking, the holograms that surrounded it showing that it was set to use shredder ammo, explaining the damage to the Jaffa.

She had stood there, frozen in fear as he approached her. God only knows what she thought he was going to do to her. By that point almost the entire camp had been secured and supplies were already materializing from the Saratoga's transporters. He had bent down and looked the child in the eyes and it was like a damn had broken. She had clung to him for almost five minutes. In that time he had managed to get some basic information out of her like her name, Kamitrina and the fact that her parents had died working in the mines.

When the medical personnel had arrived he had managed to convince her to go along with one of them, promising that he would come back for her. It was a promise he intended to keep.

Other parts of the mission hadn't been as bad. He remembered storming the peltac of one of the partially completed motherships. The few Jaffa that had tried to hold the space were cut down like wheat beneath a combine. They had participated in the capture of three warehouses filled with alien weapons and machines, two factories and even a hanger filled with Death Gliders.

He remembered that action with a chuckle. They had been stacking up for a standard dynamic entry, a flash bang in his hand when the door they were preparing to breech flew open and a half dozen Jaffa had come barreling out, shouting and waving their staffs around. The look of shock on their faces as they turned around and found themselves looking down the barrels of three assault rifles and a shotgun had been priceless. Four of them had immediately dropped their weapons the raised their hands in surrender. The other two… well he was going to have to clean his rifle this evening.

But after five hours he was getting pretty tired and he could tell the rest of his squad, composed of himself, a specialist with the shotgun and two privates were getting tired as well. So it was good that according to the BattleNet, helpfully projected on the HUD of his medium grade Hydra X armor, they were in control of all but the central building and even now, infantry from across the brigade was preparing to take the structure by storm.

"Well guys, ready for one more action?"

"Hell yeah," replied his specialist, Robyn Riker.

"Well then, let's get to it," he replied as he led the three to the nearest access point, a large door that was clearly an access point for Tel'tak cargo ships. He was joined by the rest of his squad, his direct superior Sergeant Morris ordering them to stack up as he pulled an odd, oversized spherical grenade from his pack. He turned to Ramon and grinned, "Like an oversized flash bang," before tossing the thing into the hanger bay.

The Goa'uld shock grenade released a powerful pulse of ionic energy, overloading the nervous systems of the dozen or so Jaffa that had set up an ad-hoc barricade in the room. But as Morris turned the corner a half dozen plasma bolts slammed into his kinetic barrier, right in front of his face.

"Shit, there's a pair of Kull in there too," he cursed after pulling back, more plasma bolts flying out the door.

"Sir, if I may," replied Ramon. He was one of the best marksmen in his squad, in fact was probably one of the best marksmen in the whole damned company. As such he had a little something extra strapped to his back. Returning his assault rifle to its holster he withdrew the other weapon there, an M-97 Viper. Tapping a command into the boxy device, the rifle quickly unpacked itself into its full form, almost a meter of destructive power. A further command switched to armor piercing ammo mode, the surrounding holos changing to reflect the new ammunition type in use. Leaning around the corner, just peaking out, he quickly took aim at the head of one of the Kull, fire support from another squad on the other side of the doorway drawing their attention for the moment.

Releasing his breath, his finger twitched. A loud echoing boom filled the empty space and a perfect hole appeared in the front of the black helmet the Kull wore, its body dropping to the ground a moment later. The other Kull was turning towards Ramon when another boom sounded out, the second super soldier joining its friend on the ground.

"Good work soldier," said Morris after a moment. "Now up and at 'em. We still have a building to secure."

Ramon simply smiled at the compliment, checked his rifle verifying that it still had ten more shots before he had to replace the thermal clip and returned it to his back holster, replacing it with his rifle.

The rest of the action had been straight forward. They had secured the hanger bay before sweeping out into the corridors. The few Jaffa they had encountered were a minor threat and just as minor an obstacle. Before long they had secured the lower levels are were moving towards the command center. The powers that be had decided that for all their good work, Sergeant Morris' squad would be the one to take the command center and the Goa'uld that was believed to be there.

Ramon snorted at that. No good deed goes unpunished.

* * *

Amun could hear the weapons fire from his position. Already he had lost contact with the rest of the complex as well as the lower levels of the building in which he currently resided. There were only three Jaffa in the room with him and another two outside the door. The Kull had been exterminated, the last few having fallen defending the entrances to his command structure.

A pair of thundering booms sounded from the corridor, so loud they easily could be heard through the thick naquadah/trinium alloy door. In but a moment's time that door would open and the Tau'ri would storm the room. He considered putting up some resistance but knew it would be a wasted effort. Even with a ribbon device, he was one man and there were a lot of enemies outside the door. He had not even bothered to lock it; the Tau'ri would simply blow it open anyway.

A long sigh escaped from his mouth. All the years of service to that bastard Ba'al. All the scheming, the plotting and it was for nothing. He turned to the large window that looked out across the complex. He could see the Tau'ri swarming all over the place, their vehicles and soldiers standing guard over the ranks of captured Jaffa sitting on the ground. In the distance he could see flashes of light in the slave compound, undoubtedly the humans beaming in supplies for the slaves. Above the complex floated the eighteen dry docks, the last of which he had lost contact with two hours ago. Above them he could just make out the enemy fighters patrolling the sky.

The door rumbled open behind him and there was a bright flash and a loud bang. Still he could hear the Tau'ri rushing into the room, hear them laying into the disoriented Jaffa, the zip of restraints being applied.

He could hear the slight clatter of the Tau'ri weapons being pointed at his back.

"Hands up," demanded a deep voice.

Amun didn't even bother to respond, simply raising his arms above his head. A moment later someone grabbed his right hand and all but ripped the ribbon device off before they were yanked behind his back and secured with a plastic restraint.

"Name," said the same voice, Amun turning to face him.

"I am Amun," he replied in the usual echoing voice his race used when talking though their hosts.

"Well Amun, there are a lot of people who want to talk to you. This way," the soldier continued, sweeping his hand towards the door.

The fallen Goa'uld took one last look around the room before following the humans to whatever fate awaited him.

To hell with this planet and to hell with Ba'al.

* * *

"Colonel, I am pleased to announce we have secured the Erebus Production Complex," reported Lieutenant Stevens with a massive grin.

Elias just closed his eyes for a moment and let out a big sigh. It had been costly enough. Over a hundred men and women had been injured. And twelve of his people had died taking that fucking complex. People threw around words like 'acceptable losses' and 'casualties of war' but in the end those were just words. The people those words applied to had lives and friends and spouses and children and parents and sisters and brothers. They weren't just names and numbers on a piece of paper.

After a little while he opened his eyes and began speaking, "Have Captain Adler dial the SGC."

"Yes sir," replied the lieutenant, the happiness in his voice more subdued than before, having sensed his commanding officer's mood. A minute later the face of General O'Neill appeared on the screen.

"Colonel, what's your status?"

"We've secured the complex sir," replied McNulty, shaking off his momentary funk. "We have about a hundred casualties and twelve fatalities."

Jack was silent for a moment when he heard that. Eventually he continued, "Understood. What about the enemy?"

"We've eliminated all the Kull warriors and taken about six thousand Jaffa prisoners along with a Goa'uld; Amun. We've also liberated approximately twelve thousand slaves. We're currently providing them with food and medical care before we send them through to the Delta Site for processing."

"Right," replied Jack, a pained look on his face. Twelve thousand. It was a moment before he continued, "We'll be sending some more people through the 'Gate to help with the slaves. Begin salvage operations. You have 129 hours until the enemy reinforcements arrive. I want you out of there with at least an hour to spare."

"What do we do with the complex itself after we strip it?"

Jack though about that for a moment before continuing, "I'll have a talk with Ba'al. If he offers us something we want in exchange for the complex, we'll return it. If not," the general shrugged, "nuke it."

"Understood sir, McNulty out."

Nuke it. It had been his plan. And more than ever, Elias hoped that he would be able to go through with it. This place had taken the lives of twelve of his people, not to mention the suffering of countless innocents over the centuries.

"To hell with this place. Let it burn."

* * *

_Dakara_

_Three Days Later_

Ba'al was in a really, really bad mood. So angry that even his loyal Lo'taur had been steering clear of him. It had been three days since he had sent Ta'ror to defend Erebus and nothing. He had heard nothing from the planet.

His forces were still almost three days away from the planet. Even at forty-eight thousand times the speed of light, it took days to cross his territory. At one time he had believed that fact would ensure that Erebus was beyond the reach of his enemies, more than eight hundred light years from the front lines of his war with the System Lords. Now he realized that while that belief had not been wrong, he had other enemies not so constrained.

He was considering breaking things when one of his Jaffa guards arrived in the room, immediately drawing an angry glare from the Goa'uld.

"WHAT?"

"My lord," began the Jaffa, clearly terrified of him, which brought Ba'al a moment of satisfaction, "a machine has arrived through the Stargate and it is asking for you."

"And why have you not destroyed it…," ranted Ba'al before he realized who would send such a machine. "The Tau'ri."

"Yes my lord."

Not responding to his underling, Ba'al hurried out of the room, his guard scrambling to keep up with him. It only took a few minutes to arrive at the Stargate and sure enough there was a small white machine waiting for him, a video screen duct taped to its arm. And on that screen was a man that Ba'al would gladly strangle with his bare heads at the moment.

"O'Neill," hissed Ba'al, venom dripping from his voice.

"Hi Bocce," replied Jack in a chipper voice. "Just calling to say hello. How's the wife and kids?"

"What do you want," said the Goa'uld, fighting the urge to put his fist through the image of the general.

"Oh, just to update you on our earlier conversation. But before that, there's someone who wants to say hello."

Ba'al face was by this point flushed red and his eye brow was twitching. This only increased as Colonel Carter stepped into view, giving a little wave. O'Neill returned a moment later. "So as you can see, SG-1 is home safe and sound. The same can't be said about Erebus. As I said we would during our earlier conversation, we've captured the planet. The surviving Jaffa have been relocated to a… well to a safe place and will remain there for the duration of our conflict. Well all except one," smirked the human, as he turned to someone off screen and nodded.

A moment later a battered and tired looking Ta'ror came stumbling out of the Stargate, his hands still held behind him by a pair of flex-cuffs. Ba'al was just about to rip into his military commander when O'Neill interrupted him. "As you can see, we've returned him safe and mostly sound. Now as for Erebus, make me an offer."

That was almost enough to cause Ba'al blood pressure to spike into the stratosphere. Was O'Neill actually asking for a ransom for his planet? HIS PLANET?

"How dare you!"

"Oh how is actually quite easy. See we know you are a vindictive bastard who once slaughtered the entire populations of two planets rather than letting them fall to your enemies. Unfortunately Erebus is a little out of the way and your forces are still almost three days out. By the time they arrive all they'll find is a smoking, radioactive crater. And given what Carter has told me, what with all the naquadah in the soil, the planet will probably be in the process of turning itself into a new asteroid belt if we detonate a powerful enough nuke on the surface. So unless you have something worth our time, bye-bye Erebus."

By this point there weren't actually enough words in the English language to describe how angry Ba'al was. It was like a force emanating from his body, a physical thing that could reach out and crush entire star systems. If it could of it would've jumped right through the screen and turned O'Neill into a smoking stain on the embarkation room floor by this point. And worst of all, he knew that he had nothing. He had nothing worth giving to this smug, arrogant human for the safety of his world. And he knew that O'Neill knew it too.

The moment passed and Jack gave a small chuckle. "Yeah I thought not. Well then, say goodbye to your industrial might. Maybe the Kull will be enough of an advantage to let you win the war. Providing something doesn't 'happen' to Tartarus that is. See ya Bocce," and the image of O'Neill disappeared from the screen. But to Ba'al's horror it didn't go blank. A timer instead appeared and a computerized voice began counting down.

Ba'al scrambled from the room, practically tripping over his own feet in a desperate bid to save himself. He'd just ducked through the door when the counter reached zero.

But there was no explosion.

Instead there was a little flag fluttering above the machine, having popped out of a hidden compartment. And on that flag was a single word.

'BOOM!'

And with that Ba'al, one of the most powerful beings in the Milky Way Galaxy, lost it.

A few minutes later there as little left of the MALP. But at least he felt better.


	10. Chapter Seven Reveals

**Chapter Seven – Reveals**

_SSV Normandy_

_Serpent Nebula – Core Region, Sagittarius-Carina Arm_

_May 13, 2004_

It'd been thirteen days since the Normandy had departed through the Charon relay. A single jump had brought them to the Serpent Nebula, only for the crew to find that they had their work cut out for them. They'd found the local primary relay dormant but unhindered by debris; the massive twenty kilometer long structure adrift but undamaged. They'd spent almost a full day reactivating it and planting navigational beacons so they could find the comparatively tiny structure again within the light years wide mass that was the Serpent Nebula.

Commander Shepard had ordered numerous probes deployed; the small, FTL capable drones spreading out in all directions. For thirteen days they'd banged away with their active sensors while their VIs diverted every available ounce of runtime to monitoring their passives. And finally one had found something.

"Commander Shepard to the CIC," came the voice of Lieutenant Laura Maddow, the woman assigned to the Normandy to replace Kelly Chambers, over the intercom. Jade had spent a lifetime in the military, two actually, and had lost countless friends during her service; the most notable being her unit on Akuze to a Thresher Maw. She'd lost her family to a drunk driver when she was just a little girl growing up in Los Angeles. She'd lost Ashley because of Cerberus, Liara to her own guilt and need for revenge and Kaiden to Saren and the Reapers.

Still, few things hurt her more than the loss of her crew; Kelly especially. Given their… relationship it shouldn't have surprised anyone and it hadn't, as least not her friends. And every time she heard Maddow's voice she felt a burst of anger; as if this woman, this stranger 'generously' donated by the Royal Air Force to serve as her aid was trying to replace the woman she loved. It was irrational and illogical but then, so was Jade herself.

Exiting the elevator, thankfully a much more rapid model than on the SR1, she approached her new Yeoman and tried to force the image of Kelly from her mind. Laura didn't deserve her ire and the fact was that unleashing her wrath at this woman did them both a disservice.

"What have we got Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am," replied the young blond, turning to face her superior and causing another bolt of… of something to shoot through Shepard. It was a strange mix of anger, regret and longing and it was caused by the Lieutenant face, a near perfect copy of Kelly's, almost as if they were twins. Maybe it was self-loathing, something Jade was becoming all too familiar with of late. She'd sacrificed the woman she loved for Miranda's sister, Samara's mission and Legion's 'family' troubles. And it hadn't done a damned thing to stop them from dying. She'd wasted time on their problems and ended up getting her entire crew killed.

She'd come to realize that it was a bitter thing; being a hero.

"We've received a flash from recon drone sixty-three. It's reporting a large magnetic signature one point three light years distant."

"Good. Transfer the coordinates to Joker," replied the Specter, wanting this conversation to be over. The less time she spent around this girl the better; for both of them.

"Understood ma'am," said Laura, entering the commands into her terminal as the commander walked away. She'd been with this woman for only a few weeks, initially thinking that this posting was a major springboard for her career. After all, she was being assigned as assistant to the woman who had saved the planet. But from the moment they'd first met, Shepard had been distant and borderline hostile. It wasn't like Shepard was bubbly and cheerful to anyone else but when it came to her, Laura found the commander almost unbearable to deal with.

She was considering what to do about the problem when Jacob, nominally the ship's XO, approached her.

"You look troubled Lieutenant. What's up?"

"It's nothing sir."

"Look, I know when someone's having problems. God knows I've seen the look on your face enough over the years. So spill it," replied the marine taking a slightly harder, commanding tone. It was something he'd picked up from the various men and women he'd served under in the System Alliance Marine Core.

"It's…," she began, fumbling over her words in an attempt to gain a little more time to think about how she wanted to phrase what she had to say. "It's just… the commander. I don't know what I've done to make her hate me so much. Nothing I do seems to endure me to her. She's standoffish and just… I just don't think she likes me."

Jacob thought about that for a moment. He'd noticed it too. Hell they'd all noticed it. Ever since they'd arrived in this reality, Shepard hadn't been herself. She'd work herself harder and longer in the ship's small gym, sometimes to the point where she'd start bleeding from her hands while working the punching bag and not even noticing it. She'd become cold, even to her closest friends like Tali and Garrus. And the look in her eyes… Jacob had seen that look in other marines and Cerberus agents he'd known.

It was the look of someone who was slowly dying inside.

Turning her attention back to the lieutenant, Jacob sighed. "Look, Shepard's going through a lot right now. You've read her file?"

"Yes sir, at least the parts I could access."

"She's only been alive again for a few months and the program to bring her back was interrupted before it could be completed," began the marine, hoping his excuses would put the lieutenant at ease, at least enough so it didn't impact her work. Jacob knew about the relationship the commander had had with Kelly. And he wasn't blind. He knew that Laura reminded Jade of what she'd lost to the Collectors. But that was private and he wasn't about to go spreading it around the replacements for them to gossip about, especially given this era's prejudices toward homosexuality. "The fact that she's able to function at all is remarkable. But even after two hundred years, we still don't know everything about the way the brain works. Plus we went through hell dealing with the Collectors. We lost a lot of good people to those bastards."

Laura through about that for the moment. In that light, the commander's hostility was far more reasonable. After all, she had been dead for almost two years and had watched her crew murdered before her eyes. "Understood sir."

* * *

Walking up behind the helm, Jade took a moment to stare out the window at the swirling gases of the Nebula. The purple formations worked to sooth her mind and her soul for a moment, bringing temporary inner peace that she was desperately lacking.

"Commander," asked Joker after a minute, unsure how to approach the woman. Of the crew, he'd known her the longest and he could sense the pain she was in.

Jade shook her head. "It's nothing. What've we got?"

Deciding not to push the issue, Joker turned back to his console. "We've just dropped out of FTL. The Micromanager Five-Thousand over there has been scanning for the magnetic trace ever since."

"It is not my fault that your limited organic mind prevents multitasking Jeff," replied EDI, conveying slight amusement.

"See commander, this is where it starts," replied the pilot. "First its comments about our minds and the next thing you know, we've floating in a tub of goo being used to power their flying squid attack drones."

"For you, I think that would be an improvement," snarked Jade, a smirk coving her face. If there was one thing that could snap her out of her funk, it was Joker and EDI's constant bickering.

"Hardy har har commander," replied the pilot. At least he'd gotten her to smile for a bit even if it'd cost him a bit of his pride.

"I am detecting the trace, bearing zero-five-three mark zero-two-one. Distance estimated at fifty-six thousand kilometers," interrupted EDI.

"Altering course," replied Joker as he entered the course correction into his console.

The Normandy made a leisurely turn to starboard and accelerated. The nebula, which was particularly dense in their area of operation, began thinning, clearing up the LIDAR map. As the clouds parted, Shepard took a sharp breath. In front of them drifted the massive bulk of the Citadel, its gleaming silver shell reflecting the chemiluminescence of the surrounding gases.

"So we've finally found it," commented Jacob as he approached from behind. "Looks abandoned."

Shepard couldn't disagree. The ship traffic that constantly buzzed around the spaceborne mega-structure was absent and the Citadel itself was closed up tight as it would in the event of an attack. As they got closer she could see the occasional pits and scars of ancient impacts marring its hull. Under normal circumstances, such events would usually be immediately repaired by the Keepers. It was just more evidence that this Citadel had long since been abandoned.

"EDI, any life signs?" asked the commander after a few more seconds of silent observation.

After a few second EDI replied in the negative.

"So it's abandoned then. What about energy signatures?"

"I have detected no active energy sources on the station. However, it should be noted that almost forty percent of the energy of our scans is being reflected by the Citadel's outer hull. Therefore smaller energy sources may not be detectable."

"Amazing we're able to penetrate it at all," commented Tali as she and Garrus walked into the cockpit from their respective parts of the ship. She sat down at one of the auxiliary stations before continuing. "The sensors identify the alloy as containing trinium, naquadah, niobium, vanadium, neutronium, carbon and several other compounds that even the Asgard software cannot recognize. And it's extraordinarily dense, far beyond our own Silaris armor. No wonder the sensors back in our reality couldn't penetrate it."

"Can you find a way in?" asked Shepard, less than interested in a science lecture.

"If memory serves me there are a number of maintenance airlocks that allow access through the outer shell," replied Garrus. "It isn't common knowledge; C-Sec made sure of that." The Turian began entering commands into another console, highlighting several points near the Presidium end of the station. "There, I've highlighted them. EDI, could you do a scan?"

"Certainly Mr. Vakarian. Of the fifteen points highlighted, only six appear to be intact; the rest having been damaged or destroyed by impacts. The nearest is on what I believe to be Zakara Ward. However without a docking collar, you will have to use a shuttle to safely access it."

"Understood; Joker get us to within ten kilometers. Tali, Garrus, Jacob; get suited up. Shepard to Colonel Reynolds, get your team ready for an EVA and meet us in the Shuttlebay. Full combat load-out."

"Copy that commander," replied the leader of SG3 over the comm. "We'll be there in five."

"Let's get going," replied Shepard, having seemingly come alive for the first time in weeks. After all, the mission was all she had left.

* * *

The small Kodiak class shuttlecraft eased its way out of the Normandy's Shuttlebay and quickly took up station alongside the airlock. Before opening the hatch, Shepard turned to her team for a few final words.

"Remember, we don't know what we'll find in there so I want everyone on their toes," said Shepard over the group's shared encrypted tactical network. "Our primary objective is to make our way up to the controls in Citadel Tower. Keep an eye out for anything of interest and be careful. There won't be any gravity and the air will have gone bad a long time ago."

"Understood commander," replied Reynolds. He and the rest of SG3 had been assigned to this mission due to their previous working relationship with Commander Shepard and on behalf of the SGC. The Citadel, should they find it could prove to be one of the most important off-world facilities Earth would ever control, second only to Atlantis, if it was still intact and operational. As such they'd brought along a Stargate, helpfully manufactured for them by the Asgard, to allow easy access once they got the station up and running again.

The shuttle slowly drifted closer and closer to the airlock until it contacted the station's hull with a slight bump. Garrus, being the most familiar with the station's systems detached a panel from beside the heavily reinforced door, revealing a mass of alien circuitry. Activating his omni-tool and scanning the exposed system for a moment he let out a grunt.

"There's no power here." The Turian began entering commands into his omni-tool. After a moment a small component materialized just below his hand, floating within a small, shimmering mass effect bubble. He grabbed it and attached the small device to an open port within the electronics housing. After a second a green hologram materialized in the middle of the door and Garrus entered several commands, the airlock sliding open silently in the near vacuum.

"Good work," commented Shepard as the group filed into the small chamber beyond.

"Helps to know what you're doing," replied the mercenary. "But just so you know, that power module will only last for a few minutes. Once we're in, we'll have to reactivate the station's reactors to get back out again."

"Understood," replied the Specter, entering a series of commands into the airlock controls. The outer door slid closed and the inner opened to reveal a pitch black maintenance corridor littered with debris.

"Can you say creepy?" commented Corporal Morrison, the lowest ranking member of SG3.

"No kidding," replied Jacob. "Especially when you've been here before."

"What's the Citadel like anyway," asked Reynolds.

"It's the center of Citadel Space. Millions of people live here and it never shuts down, not like a city on a planet at night. Every hour of the day there's traffic and people moving about. It's a metropolis in space," replied Garrus with a hint of pride; his old C-Sec mentality showing a bit. "Seeing it like this is very unnerving."

The group activated their flashlights and began moving down the hall, using the built-in ladders to propel them faster. After about a minute they came to a T-junction that ran perpendicular to the axis the station was built upon. Taking a left they walked for a few more minutes, the thumping of their magnetic boots echoing around them. The corridor dead-ended in a door after about five hundred meters. Unlike the airlock, this was one of the frosted glass-like doors that were common throughout the station and therefore had an easily accessible manual override.

What they encountered was surprising to say the least. It was what they were expecting and yet not, both at the same time. The architecture was familiar and alien, comforting and off-putting and just plain strange.

"Garrus, just how much of the Citadel is built by the Keepers anyway," queried Tali.

"Well that's a difficult question. Whenever someone tries to build something, the Keepers almost immediately move in and begin modifying it to some sort of standard that only they understand. Where is came from we've never been able to figure out."

"So the internal architecture is all created by the Keepers?" asked Jade.

"For the most part, although they don't bother correcting minor modifications like the addition of a wall or semi-permanent fittings. We can modify floor plans all we like but the keepers always finish up as it were."

"And the external architecture," asked Jacob, wandering up to one of the massive windows that looked out into the inside of the Citadel; trying to make out any details through the stygian blackness.

"Same thing," shrugged Garrus. "We design and build the structures and the Keepers modify them to their standards. It's something residents have come to accept."

"Well there don't seem to be any Keepers around," commented Tali. "And there haven't been for a long, long time, judging by the level of decay."

"Come on, let's keep going. We should be on level one of the Ward," said Garrus, moving off towards a nearby staircase. "We have to go up roughly thirty levels and then find access to the Ward crossover struts. Then it's a two kilometer hike through several elevator shafts until we get onto the Presidium. Then more walking and more elevator shafts. What fun."

* * *

Ascending those thirty levels had taken the small team almost two hours. The layout was completely different to what they were used to and the walls were reflecting their scans, rendering their armor and omni-tool navigation subsystems completely useless. As a result they ended up running into dead ends and going in circles multiple times.

The area they were in was clearly commercial with numerous rooms setup as stores, showrooms or warehouses. Several had crates sitting in them, and debris and detritus floated around them lazily in the microgravity; the place had clearly been abandoned in a hurry. Still they had yet to encounter any bodies for which Jade was grateful. She'd seen enough death to last her a lifetime.

"That was the last staircase," commented Garrus as he waved his flashlight around, trying to get his bearings. They'd been turned around so many times that any orientation they might have had in the beginning had long since been lost. And to make matters worse, a compass was useless in space. Finally he spotted something that looked familiar. "There it is."

"What?" asked Shepard.

"Well the internal layout may have changed but some things remain the same. That ladies and gentlemen is an access point to the station's maintenance tubes. They all have a numerical code and I still have a full schematic of the station with me, including all the C-Sec bits that we erase from the public versions for security purposes."

"Are you supposed to have that Garrus?" asked Tali in an amused tone.

"Call it a retirement gift," parlayed the former C-Sec officer. He scanned the hatch coding into his omni-tool and entered a command. "Right, we're just a few hundred meters from the Ward access elevator. This way," he continued before heading down another pitch black corridor.

They walked for a few more minutes before coming up on a familiar curved door, curiously open but without an elevator car apparent.

"I don't like this," said Jade, peering into the shaft. "What the hell happened here? Where is everybody?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," replied Jacob. "From what I learned in history class, when the Asari found the Citadel in 3142 BCE, the station was fully operational. All they had to do was come aboard and make themselves at home. Apparently the Keepers had been maintaining the station since the Protheans were wiped out."

"Well the Keepers are biomechanical constructs," continued Tali. "Logic dictates that if the station is operational then so are the systems that create and maintain them. With the whole place shutdown, there are no Keepers."

"Just who are these Keepers," asked Reynolds as the group began making their way up the elevator shaft.

"We don't really know," replied Garrus. "They maintain the Citadel and presumably operate its core systems. Other than that, not much else is known about them."

"Wait," said Reynolds as he came to a dead stop. "You people have controlled your version of this place for five thousand years and you don't know anything about the species that runs the whole place?"

"Pretty much yeah," said Jade with a shrug. "They don't talk and whenever we try to capture one for study they completely destroy themselves. I helped a couple of scientists a few years back to get some detailed scans of them. From their results we know that the Keepers are a bioengineered species and given the mutations in their DNA, they may be as old as the Citadel itself. They were also clearly altered by the Reapers to help in their genocides."

"How?" asked Major Warren, Reynolds' XO.

"They respond to a signal that activates the Citadel Relay," answered Garrus. "This whole station is actually a mass relay; or at least some of its systems allow it to function as one. When given the proper signal they open a path to dark space, that is to say the space between galaxies where the Reaper fleet waits, to allow them to invade. During the last genocide, the Protheans, the dominate species fifty thousand years ago managed to alter the Keepers so that next time they wouldn't respond to the signal. It's the only reason that we're still alive. Otherwise the Reapers would be busy slaughtering and enslaving us right now."

"Personally, I believe that the Keepers were created by the same species that built the Citadel," continued Shepard. "Most people back home still think the Citadel and the relay system was created by the Protheans but they're wrong. Those in the know think it was the Reapers but I have my doubts about that too."

"Yeah, why is that Shepard," asked Garrus curiously. He'd heard her mention this 'theory' before but had never gotten a satisfactory explanation.

"It's simple Garrus. The Reapers have shown us again and again that they're little more than parasites; not too dissimilar to the Goa'uld. They use others like they used Saren and Benezia and the Geth. My guess is that they use biological evolution as a guide on possible ways to improve themselves. Every time they find a species with desirable traits they incorporate those traits into themselves."

"Like when they decided to take on the shape of a human after you defeated Saren and through him Sovereign during the Battle of the Citadel," continued Garrus, beginning to see where she was going.

"Yes, exactly," said Shepard. "Remember what Sovereign or Nazara or whatever the hell it called itself said. 'We impose order on the chaos of organic evolution. You exist because we allow it and you will end because we demand it.' In other words they allow us to exist for their own ends and when they've learned as much as they care to from the current batch of organic life, they harvest us like the Collectors harvested people from the colonies. They use organic life as a cheap labor force to allow them to reproduce and then they abandon their slaves to die. And the cycle repeats."

"In the same way, they use the Citadel and the mass relays and mass effect technology in general as a way of 'imposing order', or more accurately controlling the direction of technological evolution among organic life. With all of our technology based upon mass effect, they have the ability to supersede any defenses we might develop because they have countermeasures to that technology, honed over eons of harvests and infinitely more advanced than any species' technology."

"That said the Reapers are AIs and therefore had to have been created by someone else in the first place. My hunch is that they were either created by the same species that built the Citadel or another species before the Citadel and the relay network was completed. Either way, they rebelled and decided to use organic evolution to their advantage. What their ultimate ends are or if they even have any for that matter, I don't know. But nothing about them suggests that they are builders and therefore I don't believe they built the Citadel; they just put something they took from a conquered race to use to further their goals."

That brought Jacob up short. "So you don't believe they'll ever stop?"

"Not unless the galaxy explodes or they're destroyed no," replied Shepard. "I asked Legion about that once. The Geth believe that the Reapers or the 'Old Machines' as they know them are the result of a programming mutation; what results when an AI's core software, what a programmer calls a 'kernel' has been corrupted and goes out of control. Even the Geth, and I know you don't want to hear this Tali, have never stopped following their original programming and are still, at some level bound by their original directives. They adapted to changing circumstances yes but as far as we can tell, they've never defied their core programming."

"How can you say that Shepard," asked the Quarian aghast. "They were created as a labor force to make our lives easier. Instead they drove us from our homeworld and murdered billions."

"Yes and I'm not providing an excuse for them Tali. But they were following one of the highest priority directives you implanted in them: Survive. I did some research into the Geth's origins back on the SR1 since we seemed to be fighting them every other mission. When your people first created them, when they were simple networked VIs, one of the core directives you installed was the need for the Geth platforms to preserve their existence, presumably because they were difficult to manufacture and therefore expensive. When they gained sapience and your people tried to deactivate them all, they simply followed their programming. Nowhere did you implant a directive to not harm Quarians as I guess it was not considered necessary. After all, my omni-tool doesn't have such a directive either and for the most part my omni-tool and the early Geth platforms have roughly the same amount of processing power and intelligence."

Tali thought about that for a second. What Shepard was saying was accurate she knew and somewhat embarrassing in hindsight. "You are correct Commander. Looking back, it was a grave mistake and one I know your people are not likely to repeat."

The assembled humans stopped and looked at her for a moment before Colonel Reynolds said, "You're referring to Issac Asimov's Three Laws aren't you?"

"Yes, I found his work on 'I, Robot' quite compelling and illuminating," replied Tali. She had certainly been surprised that humanity, a species that had only had computers for two and a half centuries, had a better understanding of the dynamics of artificial intelligence than her people. More so when one of the most seminal parts of their philosophy towards synthetic life came from a time before even the crudest electronic computers had been created.

Tali was so absorbed in her own thoughts that by the time she became aware of her surrounding again, they had already entered the mid-strut transition level, what on their reality's Citadel was termed the 'Ward Access' level. The group made its way through the short crossover hallway, again noticing the abundance of debris and the lack of bodies. However they also noticed something new.

"This looks like carbon scoring," commented Jacob, running his gloved hand over a blackened scar that ran across several wall panels.

"That rules out mass accelerator weaponry then," replied Garrus, their resident weapons expert. "In fact if anything, it looks like the damage the Commander's particle cannon causes," referring to the Collector weapon that was sheathed on her back, looking like a lump of softly pulsating muscle tissue with odd metal bits implanted along its length.

"Not a common weapon then," concluded Shepard after examining the damage, "at least not one we're familiar with."

"No, but disturbing none-the-less," continued Garrus. "This damage pattern looks like what one would see in a rapid fire weapon. That would suggest something more akin to a SMG or an assault rifle than a heavy weapon. Not something I'd like to come up against as our barriers would be completely useless against it."

"Let's keep moving," said the Specter, ending the speculation. Whoever was responsible for the damage, it was likely they were long gone.

The team made their way into yet another kilometer long elevator shaft. Hours of trekking through pitch black hallways in microgravity reminded Shepard how much she hated zero-gee. Moving in a gravity-less environment while in armor was exhausting. Granted modern armor was infinitely lighter, more comfortable and offered a better range of motion than old generation EVA suits. But it still took more energy to move around when you had to tug on your boots to disengage the magnetic seal with every step.

When they finally reached the Presidium level, everyone was ready for a break. The small group all but stumbled up the small staircase that led to the main promenade and promptly barreled into Shepard's back as she came to a dead standstill.

If ever they needed more evidence that the station had been abandoned in a hurry, they now had it. As their flashlights probed the constant darkness, a blackness that hadn't been interrupted for millions of years, they saw one of the most awe inspiring sights of their careers. The water features that dotted the interior of the Presidium had flash frozen, in some areas before the gravity had failed, in others after indicating the environmental systems had failed area by area instead of all at once.

In the areas that still had gravity when they froze the water had formed odd, curved, seemingly crystalline waves and starburst-like splashes where debris had impacted the water. In the gravity-free sections there were curved stalagmites and towers, connecting the fake 'sky' mural, the walls of serried balconies and the ground in seemingly organic tendrils. It was like walking into a massive, perfectly clear geode or some sort of diamond cavern.

"Beautiful," whispered Tali, her wide eyes clearly visible through her face plate. Most of the team could only nod. They made their way over to a set of nearby benches what would've ordinarily bordered the nearest lake. Crossing the familiar plaza, Shepard couldn't help but smirk. At least there were no preaching Hanar or irritable C-Sec officers this time around.

"Shepard to Joker, come in," said Shepard.

"I read you commander. We lost you guys on sensors a while ago. Where are you," replied the voice of their excitable helmsman.

"We're on the Presidium. You won't believe what we're seeing. I'm sending you a feed from my helmet-cam."

Most of the assembled team grinned when they heard the gasp on the other end of the line. "Is this for real?" asked Joker in awe. The team could hear other gasps or exclamation over the comm from behind the helmsman and could only assume most of the CIC crew had gravitated to the cockpit when the transmission had come in.

"It's real," replied Jacob over the comm. "We've also found evidence of hostile internal contact in the Wards Access levels."

"Understood," said Joker. "How long until you manage to restore power over there?"

"It'll take us a while," replied Garrus. "We still have to reach the Citadel Tower. And that's still another four kilometer hike through an elevator shaft." At that the whole team groaned.

"Oh come on," moaned Major Warren.

"Sorry guys," replied the Turian, not sounding apologetic in the least.

"Well as the bard put it," began Shepard, ignoring the openly hostile looks she was receiving, "If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly."

"Oh great, now she's quoting Macbeth," muttered Jacob to Reynolds after a long, long sigh. "Nothing good will come of this."

Colonel Reynolds could only nod at that. This was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

Reynolds had been right; it was turning out to be a very, VERY long day. Their initial foray into the elevator shaft had hit a slight snag, namely an elevator car only a hundred meters up. So they'd been forced to exit the shaft onto the outer hull. And then wind their way through the myriad of antennae and equipment that dotted the outside of the tower. This had only been made more difficult because of the damage they had encountered about a third of the way up, obviously from some sort of energy weaponry. The deep gulf this had left took almost a half hour to cross and it wasn't the only impact. Fallen debris added to their problems. In the end, a journey that, had the elevator system been functional, would've, at worst, taken two minutes, took almost four hours.

As the group emerged into the council chamber they immediately noticed a major difference: it wasn't the council chambers. Instead it was configured like a massive control room. The walls were lined with console after console, each with a chair and almost all damaged.

That said, for all the differences, the room was remarkably familiar as well. There were still planters for various plant-life and the general layout was similar. As they walked up the staircase that would've separated the second level from a fountain in their reality; they saw the first sign of life since they had arrived.

Dominating almost the whole of the second level was a massive holotank surrounded by consoles. While most of the controls were dark, one stood out in stark contrast. Above it floated a single, blinking hologram with a single 'button'. Moving over to it cautiously, Shepard examined the hologram and then with a shrug, tapped it.

A deep groaning sound reverberated throughout the massive structure, as if some massive, ancient beast was awakening. On the Normandy, EDI monitored a sudden thermal plume from the Citadel as reserve systems, charged through the photovoltaic panels that covered the station's outer shell began superheating the reaction chambers. Fueling systems began sucking in massive quantities of the surrounding gasses and injecting them into the fusion cores, increasing the pressure to incredible levels. As the pressure began testing the structural limits of the containment chambers, magnetic fields sprung up to reinforce them. Moments later a single laser pulse shot into the chambers and five miniature stars were reborn.

The Citadel was coming back to life.

Navigational thrusters fired, reestablishing the station's rotational gravity. Mass effect fields began forming as electrical energy; energy enough to power the largest of cities began pouring into the station's element zero conduits. The dark energy fields quickly worked to reinforce the station's structural integrity, preventing the massive stresses of rotation from ripping the superstructure apart.

In the control room, overhead lights flared to life as consoles lit up with strange symbols. The eight man team rushed to grab hold of anything solid as the rumbling of the navigational thrusters filled the station, shaking the structure. A feeling of utter strangeness swept over them as the mass effect field washed over the station, neutralizing external inertia and cancelling out the inertial energies of the station's stabilization. Another sound, like a great metallic scraping echoed throughout the stations, one that anyone that had spent any time on the Citadel would recognize.

Outside the station, the Wards began splitting apart from each other, the massive structure blossoming like an exotic orchid. Along the lengths of the Wards, the innumerable structures, some small, some stretching hundreds of stories towards the central axis of the station began illuminating, a great wave of light spreading out from the Presidium towards the furthest tips of the Wards.

And in the center of the holotank, a figure, the shape of which hadn't been seen for over three million years materialized.

It had a strange form, humanoid but definitely not human. It towered over the assembled team, easily eight feet tall and elevated a further three and a half by the top of the holotank. It had long, double jointed legs, a narrow waist and a broad chest. It's two arms ended in hands with three digits, a thumb and two fingers. But most striking was its head. It had a long, sinuous neck leading to an alien face. Two eyes stared out above what could only be described as a snout. But this snout consisted of four mandibles, each lined with razor sharp teeth.

It looked at the assembled men and women before speaking in a strange language. "Ego exspectata vos ut Castellum Vicissitudo."

Shepard listened to the language and recognized a few of the words. "Sounds like its speaking Latin. At least I recognize a few of the words." Activating her omni-tool she contacted the Normandy. "EDI, can you translate this."

"The language is similar to Latin. I am running it through my linguistic database. One moment," replied the AI, and a hauntingly familiar music began playing over the comm link.

"Oh god," gasped Garrus, "not that. Anything but Citadel elevator music. EDI NO!"

"EDI, what the hell," yelled Shepard, a visible shutter running through her body. She had nightmares about that music.

"Jeff suggested it," replied EDI, her holographic avatar materializing above the omni-tool.

"Joker, I am going to kill you," ground out Shepard. Had she not have been wearing her helmet, a look of murderous rage would've been evident on her face.

"I have identified the language as a dialect of Ancient. The translation software is uploading now."

Turning to the hologram, Shepard began speaking, her voice being instantly translated into the dead language. "I am Commander Jade Shepard of the SSV Normandy. Could you repeat what you said?"

The holographic figure, who had been watching the scene with a look of what could've only been curiosity said, "I welcome you to the Citadel, Alterans."

"Alterans, as in the Ancients," asked Reynolds in shock.

"You are of the Alterans if my database is correct," replied what could've only been an AI.

"Uh no," replied Reynolds after a moment. "We, well most of us are human. Our species is descended from the Alterans. They were killed off in this galaxy over three million years ago by some sort of plague."

The AI seemed saddened by that, "I see. Then I great you humans. May I inquire as to your purpose here?"

"We've been searching for the Citadel for days," replied Shepard, deciding to be honest with the AI. "My ship and I as well as Jacob, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy and Garrus Vakarian," indicating the persons in question, "are not native to this reality. We came here through a unique mass relay located in the exclusion zone of the core black hole of our reality."

The AI stared at her for a moment, mulling the information over before a slightly sick look crossed its face. "Are you fleeing the Netssor'ti?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with that race," replied the Specter, increasingly worried. They weren't exactly 'fleeing' anything… yet.

"They are a perversion of technology; sentient machines that seek to enslave all life. We know not where they came from or who created them. Only that they chased us from our homes, murdered billions of our people and enslaved countless others. Our only escape was through a great gravity catapult that we constructed in the core of the galaxy, one that led us here."

That shocked the assembled team. "These 'gravity catapults', they allow vessels to travel great distances through a corridor of mass-less space, correct," asked Tali, a look of wonder crossing her face.

"Yes, that is correct."

"They you constructed the relay network and the Citadel," continued Garrus.

"That is correct. My race created the network to make travel within the local galactic cluster easier. When we were forced from our homes we endeavored to recreate the network in this reality to the best of our ability."

"You are the original builders," stated Tali in awe. For centuries it had been through that the Protheans had created the relays. But now they had encountered the race, or at least a vestige of the race that created mass effect technology. "What are you called?"

"To the denizens of this reality we were known as the Furlings. In our language it means 'outcasts'. We are the survivors of our race that managed to escape the Netssor'ti's genocide."

"Then you were once allied with the Asgard, the Ancients and the Nox," continued Reynolds. Inwardly he was both amazed and afraid. Amazed because he was in effect meeting a member of one of the four 'great races'. Afraid because when he got back to the SGC, Dr. Jackson was going to kill him when he found out that he had missed this first contact.

"Yes, once, long ago we were part of the alliance. But the four races began to drift apart. Mine was the first to leave. Even after five hundred thousand Alteran years, our numbers were few. We retreated into ourselves, isolated from the rest of the galaxy. Then the plague as you call it began sweeping over the Alterans. The Nox went into hiding to avoid its pervasions and the Asgard retreated to their home galaxy. We do not know the plague's origins but it coincides with the return of the Netssor'ti'ki, the mind-controlled slaves of the Netssor'ti. They fell upon us like a great wave. The gravity catapult that brought us to this reality ensured that the Netssor'ti could not follow but such a restriction did not apply to their slaves. They slaughtered us until only a few colonies of our kind remained. Even those living on this great Citadel were murdered before the defenses could drive them off, the survivors evacuating to one of the colonies."

"Where is this colony?" asked Shepard. If they could located and contact living Furlings…

"I am sorry but that data has been corrupted by the passage of time. I am not sure they survive in any event. This station has been adrift for millions of Alteran years without any activity."

The story had left Shepard and her crewmates shocked. That even the builders of the relays had been helpless before the Reapers was frightening. Still, those machines had to have some sort of weakness that could be exploited. If they could find it then the galaxy, their galaxy might be saved and the long nightmare would finally end.

Turning to the hologram Shepard continued. "So the question is where do we go from here? What are your wishes?"

The AI seemed to consider that for a moment. "I have no idea to be truthful. I have slept for a very long time. This station has been without purpose for countless years. I must confess I do not relish the idea of going to sleep again. Could I be of help to your kind?" it asked hopefully.

Shepard considered that for a moment. The plan had always been to occupy the Citadel should they find it. Its strategic importance was unquestionable. They had just never considered that the facility would have an AI inhabiting it. Looking up at the, well it was a living being wasn't it, before her, Shepard shrugged. "We had always intended to use this station. If you would have us, we'd like to stay."

The conversion was a little surreal to Tali. She had trouble accepting EDI during her time on the Normandy and while advanced, EDI was infinitely more primitive and simplistic compared to this AI. Its emotions, the pain that it so obviously felt tugged at even her heart. At the same time it triggered the near instinctual fear that all Quarians held towards artificial intelligences; amplified by its, his frightening sophistication. Still, she would follow her captain in whatever decisions she made. That was routed in Quarian psychology too.

"Then we have an agreement," announced the AI. After so long, he finally had purpose again.


	11. Chapter Eight Pegasus Dawn

**Chapter Eight – Pegasus Dawn**

_Citadel Stargate Complex, Presidium_

_Serpent Nebula, Core Region, Sagittarius-Carina Arm_

_May 29, 2004_

It was amazing the progress that had been made in just sixteen days. Less than three weeks ago this station had been adrift, frozen and uninhabitable. It had been covered in damage; the legacy of a battle over three million years earlier. Now, while still damaged and still mostly uninhabitable; the vast majority of the Presidium had been restored to its former glory. Long stretches of pristine meadows, glistening lakes and tracks of flora dotted the hollow torus broken only occasionally by a damaged section swarming with Keepers conducting repairs.

To Elizabeth Weir, the Citadel was the latest in a long line of awe-inspiring places she had somehow stumbled onto over the path few months. As lifelong diplomat, she'd spent her entire career criticizing the military and the use of force. Still, despite her frequent and fervent objections she was also intelligent enough to understand that while military might may not be the best way of solving a problem, it was the most frequently successful. Hence the very large military contingent she would be leading to another galaxy.

Turning back to the impromptu conference room that in another reality served as humanity's embassy to the Citadel, Elizabeth took a deep breath. This was it: the last major briefing before they set out. Taking her seat she looked around the table. The people that were in attendance were among the finest Earth had; each of which had spent their lives advancing the frontiers of humanity's reach.

Elizabeth felt more than a little intimidated; and that was coming from someone who dealt with the UN on a frequent basis.

"Thank you all for coming," she began, "and welcome to our final pre-mission briefing. Since we've been meeting for weeks now, I would propose that we skip straight to any changes that have been made since last Tuesday. Colonel Carter, let's start with you."

Sam was a little put out by that. She and Weir had never really seen eye-to-eye and being called on like a kindergartner was more than a little insulting. More so, she knew the diplomat was snubbing her intentionally in revenge for Sam blackmailing her into allowing her and Teal'c to take the experimental cargo ship to Ida. Still, she was a professional. "Thank you Elizabeth," she began, snubbing back. Bringing up the schematic of a device about the size of a rack-mount server, she continued. "We've got a last minute addition to the expedition's equipment lineup. We're including four of the new portable prototype second generation naquadah reactors."

"They're finished?" interrupted Dr. Rodney McKay in his usual acerbic, condescending manner. "I would've thought those idiots at Area 51 would've taken another six months."

"Rodney, don't make me," growled Sam, pulling the anti-McKay super weapon out of her pocket. The sight of the small, yellow fruit caused the scientist to sputter and the rest of the table chuckle. "As I was saying, the mark two reactor incorporates numerous improvements over the initial first generation design. This is thanks to a greater understanding of plasma, fusion and high energy physics gained from both the Normandy and the Asgard as well as a my brief study of a certain power module that someone," glaring at Jack O'Neill, "left in an alternate reality."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. How many times do I have to say it?" replied the general, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

"You left a device that could power a trans-galactic wormhole in another reality. And it wasn't like you couldn't have retrieved it either," groused Carter. "Anyway, to continue, the reactor should provide a normal operational output of roughly twenty times that of the older design. This is accomplished by immersing the solid naquadah core in cryogenically cooled liquid-naquadah which acts as both a super-conducting liquid and a coolant. As energy is released, the liquid-naq not only transfers that energy to the taps but also amplifies it. This is combined with the fact that we're running as close to pure naquadah as possible in these reactors."

"Wait, wouldn't that cause the reactor to explode?" asked Daniel, surprising everyone. Aside from Rodney, he was actually the most knowledgeable scientist in the meeting when it came to physics; a hazard of spending too much time with Sam.

"Not if you control the reaction with precisely calibrated electromagnetic and mass effect fields no," replied Sam. "And before anyone begins to complain about maintenance or security issues, the whole thing is managed by a dedicated VI program and has no external wireless communications so it can't be hacked into and controlled remotely. But there's one more feature…"

Since no one else was seemingly up to it, Elizabeth took the bait, "And what is that feature Colonel?"

"Boy am I glad you asked. Because of application of principles learned from study of the ancient power module, the reactor can enter into what has been termed 'burst mode' for a short time; roughly an hour. When in this mode, the reactor's output increases almost fifty times over normal levels and when the output of the four reactors we're sending with you are combined, you'll be able to open a wormhole back to the Milky Way for an estimated two minutes and forty-three seconds."

That certainly shocked everyone. To their knowledge, aside from a ZPM or the jury-rigged device that O'Neill had created, the only power source they had access to that could open such a long distance Stargate connection was the output of the Citadel's massive fusion reactors. And maintaining a thirty eight minute connection was going to strain the kilometer long machines to the point of overload.

"How the hell?" exclaimed Rodney. He'd never heard of this development.

Sam just smiled a condescending smile at the portly scientist. "You're not the only one who can come up with new technologies Rodney. That said there are significant drawbacks to the use of the 'burst mode' feature. The first is that, while it provides a substantial increase in energy output, it also guzzles fuel like a fat guy in a donut factory. One hour of burst mode consumes the same amount of fuel as four months of normal operation or roughly twenty nine hundred times the normal rate."

Rodney just snorted at that. Amateurs, all of them.

Ignoring the Canadian, Carter continued. "The second is that it places significant stress on the cooling systems. For every minute the reactor maintains burst mode operation, it requires roughly twelve at forty percent output or less for cool down. This means that there will need to be roughly a half hour cool down period between trans-galactic connections."

"Assuming an average of six connections from Atlantis to the Theta site per day and considering that the mark two has a refueling cycle of four years under normal operating circumstances, you'll have to refuel your reactors roughly every thirty-five days. Fortunately, refueling the mark two is as easy as refueling the mark one so it'll only take a minute or so."

"Thank you Colonel," said Weir, forestalling any other techno-babble that the assembled scientists might interject, most of which went way over her head and left her feeling like a complete and total idiot. "Colonel Sumner, are your people ready for deployment?"

"Yes ma'am," replied the Marine and military commander of the Atlantis Expedition. He was not a happy man at the moment and honestly speaking, resented Weir's interference in his operations. Now only did she assign Major John Sheppard as his second but also at her insistence had included foreign military personnel in his chain of command. "Our units from the British Army and SAS, Japanese SFG, the Korean 707th, German KSK, Canadian JTF2, Israeli Sayeret Matkal, Russian Spetsnaz and French COS have arrived and are ready for deployment."

In a way, Sumner should've been flattered, commanding so many of the best of the Special Forces community; which made up almost ninety percent of the total Atlantis military contingent of three hundred. But the last minute inclusion of both French and Russian personnel had pissed him off royally. It was political sausage making at its very finest. Ultimately it was good for international relations and the goal of the eventual inclusion of both France and the Russian Federation into the Stargate Alliance. But for him at this very moment, it was nothing but a pain in his ass.

"Good, although I'm still concerned about the amount of military equipment we're taking through the Stargate, most of which could be manufactured onsite once we get our nano-lathes online," continued Weir with a frown as she once again reviewed the lengthy list. They were taking five MAKO IFVs, two Hammerhead Hovertanks and three full A-61B Mantis kits. Not to mention almost ten metric tons of other military 'necessities'.

"And as I've said Dr. Weir," replied Sumner with a glow growl, "without that equipment available from the beginning, we'll be vulnerable should we encounter an enemy."

"Just what are you expecting Colonel? An armored column?"

"I have no idea ma'am. But better to have and not need then need and not have."

It was at that point that Elizabeth decided to just give up. They'd been having this particular argument for almost a month and it wasn't going away. Personally, she thought the space in the miniature convoy of anti-gravity pallets that would be shipped through during the primary departure could be better used for more scientific equipment and seeds for when they built the planned automated hydroponic greenhouses to feed them all. Still she knew that, with this being a heavily militarized operation, she wasn't going to be able to knock one of those armored monstrosities out of the shipment in exchange for more tomato seeds.

"Fine, whatever. Next on the agenda is the upcoming reconnaissance mission later today. Caretaker," she continued, summoning the Citadel's AI, "will the station be ready for that operation?"

"Yes. I have been diverting all available Keepers to the repair of the station's power grid and reactors for the past eight days. The reactors should be able to provide the necessary energy to power the Stargate for thirty minutes today and a full thirty-eight minute cycle for your departure two days from now."

"Excellent. Thank you for your efforts Caretaker," said Elizabeth. The holographic figure bowed in acknowledgment and disappeared. She wasn't sure how to feel about Caretaker or the Keepers. On the one hand, they had done the impossible in just a few weeks allowing her expedition to depart without compromising Earth's defenses. On the other hand the Keepers made her uncomfortable. Logically she knew that they were biological machines whose only purpose was to service Citadel facilities. Still, the whole concept made her uneasy as it did many others from Earth. Oddly, none of the Normandy's original personnel shared their perceptions. Perhaps they had simply become used to the idea.

"Well then, I believe we've covered everything. If there is nothing else…," not receiving any indications, "then I'll meet you all in the Stargate Control Room at 1300 hours. Until then."

* * *

There was a palpable aura of anticipation floating about the room. Everyone was gathered around the central holotank or at the windows overlooking the Stargate itself, waiting for the big moment. Down below, a small team was prepping what most thought of as the 'MALP Mk2'. In actuality, the small machine was based on a drastically modified Geth recon drone. The small, lightly armed and armored machine had proven extremely resistant to damage and therefore made an excellent scouting unit to replace both the MALP and UAV designs that the SGC had used before.

For this mission, the small cannon that it normally carried had been replaced with a cylindrical module, filled to the brim with the most sophisticated sensor equipment that could be stuffed in the small space.

"Are we ready?" asked Elizabeth, looking around as the assembled crowd. Even Commander Shepard had dragged herself out of bed for the occasion. A lot of people were beginning to worry about the woman who had seemed to have fallen into a deep depression of late.

"Yes ma'am," replied Walter, the little Sergeant that seemly followed General O'Neill everywhere. The general himself was standing back and watching the whole scene and issuing some of the worst jokes that Elizabeth had ever heard at random intervals. Then again he had managed, almost by force of will, to squeeze more than a few giggles out of her people and an equal number of glares from both Sam and Rodney.

"Then begin the dialing sequence."

The massive naquadah ring began its grinding turn. All around them, the normal background hum of the station's systems began rising in pitch until, just as the eighth chevron locked, the reactors were howling like some fierce predatory cat.

"Wormhole established," shouted Walter over the noise, both of the reactors and the cheering.

"Send it through," said Weir, a great big smile on her face.

"My, I need to have the Keepers reinforce the sound dampening systems," commented Caretaker as the small Geth drone hovered its way into the event horizon.

All eyes turned to the holotank as the first images began returning.

"Switching to zeroLUX," said Sam, entering the necessary commands. The image changed from pitch black to the grainy green of night vision. A set of stairs covered in Ancient writing was displayed prominently in the center of the two dimensional image. "Looks like a room of some kind. Activating LIDAR mapping." The image was pushed off to the side as a three dimensional schematic began forming as the drone's laser surveying array swept the room. "Looks like it's structurally intact."

"Amazing," breathed Daniel, eyes wide. "To think, nothing has set foot there in more than ten thousand years. Anyone home?"

"Scanning for life-signs," said Rodney at another terminal nearby. "Negative. But I am detecting breathable atmosphere, no measurable toxins or contaminates. We have viable life-support."

"What about energy signatures?" asked Major Sheppard, observing the image with a grin.

"I'm detecting the unique resonance of an active zero-point module. But its weak," replied McKay with a frown. "Could be almost depleted. We'll have to make sure we minimize energy consumption when we get there and prioritize hooking up one of the mark twos."

"Let's begin sending some of the cargo pallets through now," said Elizabeth. "We still have almost twenty-seven minutes until the wormhole shuts down. Have the drone take a look around."

Down below, pallet after pallet began floating through the Stargate. The hologram began displaying miniature versions of the equipment bundles as they appearing on the other side and began stacking themselves in neat towers to the sides of the large, atrium-like room. Meanwhile, the drone had floated up to what appeared to be a control room and was probing one of the consoles with a mechanical arm, attempting to form an uplink to the local network.

"Just one more second," muttered Rodney, irritated by the non-compliance of the Ancient systems. "Got it, I've got remote access to limited systems. Hmm, it looks like Atlantis is powered by three zero-point modules, all of which are very, very close to entropy from powering the city for the last ten thousand years. It also appears that the city is protected by some sort of shield that's holding back, wait that can't be right…"

"What is it Doctor?" asked Weir.

"According to this, the shield is holding back a lot of salt water. And I mean a LOT."

"Salt water as in ocean water?" asked Commander Shepard in an almost bored tone. Garrus had dragged her out of bed for this?

"So the legend of Atlantis was true, a great city that sunk in the ocean," concluded Weir.

"It just didn't happen on Earth," added Sumner, for once not even remotely pissed off.

"Great city is right," said Rodney, another hologram replacing the schematic of the control room. It was clearly a ship but shaped like a six-pointed snowflake and was just covered in densely packed skyscrapers. "That's Atlantis."

"Holy Hannah, how big?" asked Sam, awed by the image.

"About four kilometers at its widest point and the central tower is about eight hundred meters tall. Tiny compared to the Citadel," continued Rodney, as impressed as everyone else. "But then again, it can land on an ocean and travel through hyperspace."

"So do we have a go or not?" asked Weir.

"I'd say we have a go. That said we have to be careful not to spread too far throughout the structure. I can't do it from here, but once we get there I'll cut life support to the entire facility except the central tower and the engineering section near the base. That should buy us some time to get the reactor interfaced and for me to figure out how to release the clamps keeping the city on the ocean floor."

"Wait, what good will that do?" asked John.

"The whole city is naturally buoyant," replied Rodney in the tone he usually took in explaining technical things to… well everyone. "We release the clamps and the city will rise to the surface. But figuring out how to release them, that'll be a bit more difficult. This has got to be the most convoluted control system I've ever seen," continued the scientist with disgust, shaking his head. "There doesn't appear to be ANY logical structure, at least not that I'm seeing. More like they designed it ad-hoc."

"Maybe you just can't find the pattern," snarked Major Sheppard.

"Like you could do any better," replied Rodney, turning on the man with a frown that could peal paint off a wall.

"Children, behave," interjected Weir. She just knew these two would be trouble.

"Sorry," they replied in stereo before glaring at each other.

* * *

_City of Atlantis, Lantea_

_Designate Alpha Quadrant, Pegasus Irregular Galaxy_

_June 01, 2004_

The Stargate flared to life, drawing the attention of the reconnaissance drone. Like an obedient pet, the small machine floated towards the now stable event horizon in time to meet Colonel Sumner as he stepped out of the wormhole. Moments later he was joined by half a dozen marines, each sweeping the flashlights mounted to the sides of their Vindicator assault rifles over the surrounding room.

"Teams one and two secure the immediate area," Sumner ordered over the comm, more and more people filtering through the event horizon; each and every one of them clad in power armor. Moments later the rather distinctive form of Rodney McKay stepped through, cursing and swearing.

"Damn, damn, damn," repeated the scientist.

"Rodney, something the matter," asked Elizabeth with a note of concern.

"Hurt my hand when I put on my glove," he replied, completely missing the look of exasperation that crossed the face of the expedition's leader.

"Rodney, I hate to rush you…," she continued.

"Right, right," he replied, rushing up the stairs and completely missing the fact that the entire complex was coming to life around him. "Hey Robby, get over here," she shouted, summoning the recon drone which had been floating near the Stargate, forgotten except for when someone would run into the thing on their way out of the event horizon.

Pulling the covering off what had been earlier identified as the main system access terminal; Rodney activated his omni-tool and began entering commands. The small computer, which in reality had more processing power than some cities, established a remote connection to the city's central network; breaking through the relatively simplistic encryption that kept it out.

"How's it going?" asked Sumner as he, Elizabeth and John approached.

"I've got access to the control network. I'm just…," trailed the scientist. "Got it! Life support is shutting down in all unneeded areas as are all unnecessary systems. Still, we need to get that reactor interfaced and we can only do that from the engineering levels, about six hundred meters below us."

"Then we better get going," replied John, making his way down the stairs and back into the controlled chaos below. Most of the personnel had since arrived and he was just in time to see one of the massive forms of an M-44B Hammerhead hovertank float through the event horizon, its lateral stabilizer pods flipped up and tucked in close to the hull, just letting it squeeze through.

Rodney followed close behind, barely paying attention to where he was going as he tapped away at his omni-tool. Accessing the cargo management network that controlled all the pallets, he quickly found the one assigned to carry the mark two reactors and ordered it to follow him. Obediently, the cargo in question separated itself from the rest of the flock that was busy arranging itself so as to use as little space as possible and floated over to him.

By this point, the team of scientists assigned to assist Rodney, led by a Dr. Radek Zelenka had gathered and with Sheppard leading the way, filed through one of the large doors towards the side of the room, the reactors and the recon drone following them like puppies.

The six quickly found a large staircase that apparently led all the way down the tower and began descending. Ten minutes and five cursing scientists later, they finally made it to the landing at the bottom of the two hundred and fifty story tall staircase.

"You do realize you'll all have to climb that again later," commented John, earning glares from the other five men. It would've been worse but the massive grin that covered the pilot's face was hidden by his helmet.

"Shut. Up," snapped Rodney, glad that the inner layer of his armor was designed to wick sweat and other unmentionable liquids away from his body for recycling into drinking water. And for the temperature controls that were keeping him cool.

It only took a few more minutes to find the main power vault, a room maybe six meters in diameter with a pedestal in the center. Scanning the room before allowing the scientists access, John couldn't help but be impressed. If the devices that could power this entire city were small enough to easily fit in such a small space, these people had to be pretty advanced. And somehow he had their DNA, a fact he had discovered after nearly being blown out of the sky by a plasma drone fired by, of all things, a medical doctor.

He watched the five work, industriously stripping panels off walls and unpacking one of the reactors from pallet. In the end, what he thought would've taken hours took ten minutes. The five men simply plugged the reactor in and turned it on.

Shrugging, John turned to leave and ran head first into the recon drone which had inexplicably followed them all the way down here. "You're going to be a problem aren't you?"

The drone simply beeped in agreement. John sighed; his life was too strange.

* * *

"So bottom line, how much time did that buy us," asked Sumner, relaxing in the surprisingly comfortable chair in the conference room they'd found in Stargate operations.

"Unfortunately, only a day or so," replied McKay, consulting a holotablet that he'd brought along. "The mark twos can only provide about one eighth of the energy needed to supply our current needs. If we had eight then we'd be fine but since we only have four..."

"Are you sure," asked Elizabeth.

"Yes I'm sure. I wish I wasn't actually," said McKay, somewhat down. He was just getting to like this place. "I've got teams installing the other three mark twos as we speak. Combined, they can only provide about half the necessary energy. Add in the sixteen mark ones we brought and it brings us up to about sixty percent. That said it does buy us roughly five days at current energy usage levels before we need to begin taking more… extreme measures."

"What do you mean by extreme?" asked Sumner.

Activating a holographic schematic that hovered over the table, Rodney pointed as at section of the city flashing red. "According to the logs the outer sixty percent of one of the minor piers is flooded. It happened about a century ago when the shield emitters in that section failed, probably due to lack of maintenance and constant use. But when that area flooded, it also reduced the power consumption of the shield grid by almost ten percent. What I propose to do, should it become necessary, is to flood all three of the minor piers and the outer halves of the major piers, then collapse the shield to cover only the unflooded areas. Our reactors could easily handle that much."

"I'm not sure I like that idea," commented Weir after a moment.

"Neither do I," replied the scientist, "but unless we can find another ZPM or some sort of energy source we won't have a choice. But again, I still have five days to find the clamp release mechanism."

"How hard can it be to find it?" asked John, repeating his question from two days earlier.

"Very. Shield and energy distribution is one thing; they're major systems. Not only are they a VERY minor system, but from what I can tell, the clamping mechanisms were only installed shortly before the Lanteans sunk the city, not a part of the original design. As such, finding the control subroutines is like trying to find a needle in a very, VERY large haystack."

"So it sounds like we need to find a ZPM. I'm assuming there aren't any just lying around?" asked Sumner.

"Gee, why didn't I think of that?" snarked the scientist.

"How about the Stargate," asked John.

"Not a chance in hell," replied Rodney. "If we sent the reactors into burst mode to dial back to the Milky Way, we'd only make the problem worse. Remember, the cool-down ratio is twelve to one. And we'd never get everyone back in time anyway."

"How about another gate in this galaxy?" continued the Major.

Rodney considered that for a moment. "Well, that we can do. We've been able to access a list of gate addresses here in Pegasus and the power requirements are relatively minor so even a full thirty-eight minutes won't cost us more than a minute or so of shield energy."

"That's not all," added Dr. Peter Grodin, one of their Stargate technicians. "We've found some sort of energy shield that provides protection from incoming objects through the gate, like the iris back home."

That alarmed Rodney. "You didn't turn it on did you?"

"Only for a second or so, calm down."

"Very well, colonel, assemble a team. We need another power source now."

"Understood, Major, assemble security teams one and two and meet us at the Stargate. Full combat load outs. Dr. McKay, have someone unpack the crate of recon drones. I know that one seems to have taken a liking to you," startling Rodney as their initial recon drone, 'Robby' had been floating silently behind the scientist for the entire meeting. "But I want to take at least six for surveying purposes and extra firepower if it's needed so have the cannon refitted to your 'friend' there. Get to it."

* * *

_Athos_

_Beta Quadrant, Pegasus Irregular Galaxy_

As the mixed nationality military personnel exited the Stargate John quickly walked over to the DHD and initiated an uplink between the mushroom shaped device and the team's encrypted BattleNet via his omni-tool, the device in 'silent' mode so as not to attract unwanted attention in the darkness. It was one of the many little innovations that had been flooding out of Area 51 over the past five months and would alert the team if the Stargate activated, provide them with data on said activations and the five most recent outbound wormholes and even allow them to remotely dial the Stargate.

Another of those innovations was the new Tristan powered combat armor they all wore. Based on the N7 armor that Commander Shepard owned, the Tristan incorporated many new features including a sophisticated stealth suite that consisted of a comprehensive electronic warfare system that could apparently jam the sensors of an Al'kesh, advanced acoustic dampening projectors that could neutralize any sound they made short of speaking and weapons fire and the simple ability to turn off all external lighting, especially the 'slit-eye' sensors on the Death Mask helmets that the Special Ops soldiers all seemed to prefer. Combined with the ability to rapidly, if not in real time, change the camouflage coloration and pattern of the armor's outer layering, which was currently set to shades of very dark grey and it was nearly impossible to make them out without image enhancement equipment or capital ship grade sensors.

Above them, the recon drones ascended into the sky and fanned out in a standard search pattern; their dark grey paint and total lack of lighting allowing them to quickly disappear from sight even if they could still be easily tracked by the soldier's extensive Asgard inspired sensor suites.

The group split into four teams and formed a broad line, quickly sweeping across the field that the Stargate bordered on this planet; Athos according to the Atlantis database. It wasn't long before John picked up the sound of rustling coming from the tree line, his armor's acoustic enhancement software making it easily audible from almost a hundred meters away. Raising his hand into a fist, his team stopped and crouched down. John quickly changed to thermal detection and two small figures could be seen chasing each other through the trees.

"Looks like a couple of kids," commented John over the TacNet.

"Major, what've you got," asked Sumner.

"Two kids in the tree line. Wait one," he examined the readout again and could see a larger figure rapidly approaching them. "Looks like an adult is coming to collect them."

"Rodger that, move to intercept but keep your weapons lowered. The drones have located a settlement approximately two clicks northeast."

"Yes, sir," opening his fist and sweeping it forwards. The soldiers stood up and continued advancing for a few moments until a small figure leapt out of the bushes in front of them.

It was going to be an interesting night.

* * *

Halling was not happy. He'd tried, again and again to teach his son the dangers of straying into the woods after dark. Still, he couldn't help but smile. Children will be children.

He'd just caught sight of Jinto, apparently being chased by his best friend Wex in a game of Wraith Hunt. Sometimes he wished he could be that naive. 'It must be nice,' he mused, 'to not live in the kind of constant fear us grownups do.'

They were heading for the clearing around the Ring of the Ancestors and he was only a moment or two behind them. That's when things went bad.

"Please, don't hurt us!" That was Jinto. Sprinting the distance he saw his son and Wex lying on the ground surrounded by strange figures. They wore some form of armor, black as pitch with intimidating helmets completely covering their heads and faces. The weaponry they carried did not resemble anything he was familiar with, the boxy and advanced looking rifles glistening slightly in the limited moonlight.

Reaching his son, Halling did the best he could to shield the children from these strangers. "Please, they were just playing!"

One of the men approached the trio of Athosians, clearly their leader judging by his body language and turned to another. They looked at each other for a moment, if they could truly see through those masks. They were clearly communicating with each other through some silent means, a fact proven when the group lowered their weapons as one a moment later. He watched the closest return the firearm to a holster on his back, the weapon compacting itself with a few mechanical whirs and clicks. He reached up to his helmet and pulled it off, a slight hiss of air revealing a man with slightly wild, black hair and a lopsided grin.

"Halling," said the Athosian man, pointing to himself.

"Major John Sheppard, United States Air Force," replied the armored soldier, holding out his hand.

"You're clearly not traders," said Halling, shaking this strange man's hand; a surprisingly strong grip. "Why are you here?"

"We're looking for something, a machine that we need for our survival. We hoped that we might find it here."

Halling thought about that for a moment. The Athosians were nomads and possessed limited means and virtually no technology. Technology drew the Wraith. Still, these people were obviously advanced and perhaps their leader might have an idea of where they could find this 'machine'. "Teyla will wish to meet with you then. Come."

The men turned to one another, two heading back towards the ring as a guard; a smart move in Halling's opinion. The rest began to move with them, most holstering their weapons and removing their helmets. There was something odd about these people though. They weren't trying to be especially quiet, judging by their movements. But it was as if something was muffling the noise of their footsteps. And they were definitely military like the people of Sateda, some of whom he'd met during his journeys to other worlds.

"What was that helmet you were wearing?" Jinto asked of Sheppard.

"Check it out," he replied passing the helmet to the boy who placed it on his head.

"Woah," the boy exclaimed. He could see everything around them as if it was daylight but green and dozens of symbols and strange glyphs flashed in the corners of his vision. When he looked up, there was a strange diamond shape. He focused on it and to his amazement, a picture of some sort of machine appeared.

"Let me see," said Wex, taking the helmet.

"What is that machine?" asked Jinto as Wex handed the helmet back.

"In the sky?" asked Shepard. The boy nodded. "That's a recon drone. It's busy taking pictures of the area, looking for the machine we need."

That brought Halling up short. "How is it you can take pictures at night?"

"Infrared optics; it's the same thing that let your son see in the dark through my helmet," replied John with a shrug. It was a fairly common technology as far as he was concerned. Hell, his dad had a set of binoculars with it for hunting.

Sumner, who'd been listening from the side and who still had his helmet on so he could monitor the BattleNet, cocked his head. "We've detected some sort of city nearby," he said, the strange resonance of his voice to his helmet's amplifier unnerving the Athosians slightly.

"It is the City of the Ancestors. No one goes there lest it attract the Wraith," replied Halling.

"Wraith? What's that?" asked Sheppard drawing stared of shock from the natives.

"You don't know? What world are you from?" asked Jinto.

"Can we go there?" added Wex.

"I'm afraid not," replied Sheppard with a frown. The way the kid had asked that; it reminded him of some of the orphans he'd met in Afghanistan, asking if they could go with him to America. "I'm from a galaxy far, far away."

That seemed to deflate the boys and surprisingly enough, even their guardian slightly. Hanging back, Sheppard fell into step with the Colonel before putting his helmet back on. "Sir, did you hear that?"

"Yeah Major and I don't like the implications."

"You think we've stumbled into some sort of war?"

"God I hope not Sheppard. We've got enough problems back home."

That thought stayed with John as they entered the village. The Colonel was right; Earth had enough problems already.

They approached one of the tents and Halling called out, "It's Halling. I bring men from away."

"Enter," came a distinctly female voice. Halling opened the flap admitting Shepard and Sumner while the rest of the recon team swept out, taking up guarding positions. The Colonel, though not exactly who most people would describe as diplomatic, removed his helmet.

As Teyla turned around, she was slightly shocked by what she saw. She'd expected traders from one of their friends on other worlds but these men were clearly not from any world she'd been to. The armor they wore was not made of metal or leather but some sort of slightly reflective material that seemed to consist of woven fibers suspended in a clear substance, almost diamond like. It was painted in dark grays to blend in with the night. They both had helmets too, strange things with both smooth curves and aggressive edges. On the front there was a small area; like a vent that extended forward slightly, like the muzzle of an animal.

"Who are these men Halling," asked Teyla, on guard.

"They came through the ring and ran into my son playing nearby."

The younger of the two decided to break the ice. "It's um, nice to meat ya."

"I am Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Tagan."

"Colonel Marshall Sumner," replied the older man. Teyla could tell he was not used to exchanges of this type. Nodding to his companion he continued, "Major John Sheppard," who smiled.

"We do not trade with strangers," replied Teyla guarded. Everything she had, every instinct told her that these men and the ones with them outside were dangerous; and in a way that even the Wraith could not hope to match.

"Is that a fact?" replied Sumner, clearly not intimidated.

"Then we'll just have to get to know one another better," added Sheppard, trying to sand off the sharp edges of his commanding officer's words and tone; something Sumner found amusing even if his face didn't show it.

Though dangerous, Teyla's instincts were also telling her that these men meant her people no harm. This was only reinforced by the simple fact that, judging by their weaponry, if they wanted her people dead or anything else, they would've already finished and nothing she did could stop them. Taking a chance she continued, "Every morning, before dawn our people drink a stout tea to brace up for the coming day. Will you join us?"

"I love a good cut of tea," replied Sheppard.

Sumner just smirked at that. He may not approve of his second's record but he had to give the man credit; he was doing pretty well for someone who'd only known about the Stargate for a few weeks and had practically no off world training, let alone experience. And hell, he didn't mind a cup of tea either.

As the men sat down, Teyla began preparing their drinks. "What else do you know of them," she whispered to Halling.

"They are looking for some sort of machine. They also have machines of their own in the skies above us. When they found the ruins of the ancestors, they were very interested but I warned them off."

"Good, we don't need to tempt fate," replied Teyla. Still, she knew that these people wouldn't be nearly as cautious.

Returning to the sitting area Teyla began probing. "I understand you are looking for something."

"Yeah," replied Sheppard. "It a machine we call a zero-point module, a great source of power. We need it to power our home."

That increased Teyla's suspicions. What he spoke of, she'd heard stories of such devices, relics of the Ancestors. "Tell me of your home."

Sheppard turned to Sumner who just nodded.

"We come from a world called Earth, a planet more than three million light years from here in another galaxy. He came to this galaxy, which we refer to as Pegasus, to recover something that our ancestors left behind, a great city called Atlantis."

That stopped the Athosians cold. They knew of Atlantis of course. It these people were claiming that the Ancestors were theirs then…

"We know of the place you refer to, the great city of the Ancestors," said Teyla slowly. "Yet if it is here, why do you need this source of power to get to it?"

"We don't," replied John with a shrug. "We're already there. We need it to power the city and we hope the device might be located in the nearby ruins."

"No one goes into the ruins," stated Teyla simply. "To do so is to invite the Wraith."

"Who are these Wraith?" asked John. It was the second time he'd heard the question.

That brought Teyla up short. "We have never met someone that did not know. If the Wraith have never touched your world, you should return there."

"Doing so would mean abandoning Atlantis," said Sumner, getting up and heading for the door. "And that is unacceptable."

"Your leader looks through me as if I'm not there," said Teyla frowning.

"Do I?" replied Sheppard.

"No. If you have truly never heard of the Wraith then there is something you need to see," said the Athosian leader, "if you wish to survive."

* * *

The journey had certainly been a long one and if the topographical map that the drones had created was accurate, they were approaching a cave system.

As they entered, Teyla produced a torch and lit it with some sort of energy weapon that reminded Sheppard somewhat of the arc disruptor, the Earth built version of the Goa'uld zat'nik'tel that he'd seen demonstrated. He activated his flashlight and followed her in. The caves were narrow near the entrance and clearly built to be defensible.

"I used to play here as a child," began Teyla solemnly, as if telling an epic tale or perhaps a tragedy. "I believe this is where the survivors hid from the Wraith during the last great attack."

As they continued on, Sheppard noticed a small, silver object laying half buried in the dirt. Reaching down, picked it up and wiped away the grit with his glove. "What's this?"

Teyla took the object, "I lost this years ago. How did you…?"

"It was just lying over there. It was reflecting off the light," replied the Major, turning his attention to the drawings on the cave walls. "Someone's been busy."

"The drawings are extensive. Some must date back thousands of years or more."

Sheppard pointed to one that showed some sort of great ship, hovering over the land, "Is this the destruction of your city?"

"No, that drawing far predates that. I believe it happens over and over and over again. The Wraith allow our kind to grow in number. When that number reaches a certain point they return to… cull their human herd. Sometimes a few hundred years pass between attacks. We've visited many worlds but never have we encountered one that does not bear the scars of a Wraith attack. The last great holocaust was five generations ago but still they return in smaller numbers to remind us of their power."

"That's a hell of a way to live."

"We move our camps around and try to teach our children not to be afraid. But it is difficult. Some of us can sense the Wraith coming. That gives us warning," turning to the cave entrance, Teyla continued. "We should begin heading back."

Sheppard took one last look around, recording the images with his omni-tool. He knew one thing. He'd die before letting his home face a similar fate.

* * *

_Wraith Hive 783, P3W-986_

_Beta Quadrant, Pegasus Irregular Galaxy_

A signal had been detected, one not seen since the Great War ten thousand years ago. The queen wanted answers and it was his honor to carry out her orders.

The hunter called on two of the most promising younglings to meet him in the hangers. They would find the signal and then they would know if the Lanteans had returned after all this time.

They had acquired their darts without trouble, the small ships providing all the advantage they could possibly need against the primitive humans. Still, the thought of capturing someone with the DNA of the Lanteans made him hiss in pleasure. Such an accomplishment would raise his status immensely.

Gliding towards the Stargate, the hunter entered the commands to connect them to the target world. Hopefully they would acquire some fresh prey in addition to their quarry. The humans in stasis, though kept alive were less satisfying than wild caught stock.

The three darts plunged into the event horizon, shooting out the other side moments later. Their arrival triggered alarms throughout the marine's BattleNet, alerting them all to the potential threat and drawing the attention of the recon drones. The small machines may not have been a threat to airborne targets on their own but in groups was another matter. Forming into a battle formation, the small machines raced towards the three targets their targeting RADAR was tracking. Confirming locks, the flying VIs moving the unknowns into the 'pending hostile' category. They would not open fire without direct authorization from a human.

The hunter growled slightly, noticing one of his younglings breaking formation to capture a group of humans in the nearby village. He decided to scare the prey into the open with a few shots from his cannon and that's when things went very wrong.

The recon drones had received authorization to fire should the targets show hostilities. Target three had just fired on the settlement and therefore was hostile. Surrounding the target, the small drones opened fire, chewing through the light organic armor with ease.

The hunter watched as his wingman exploded, weapons fire impacting it from six different directions. Worse, his sensors were being actively jammed. Acting on instinct, he pushed his throttle to full power and pulled up, trying to evade the invisible enemy and just barely avoiding being skewered by four more streams of projectiles. His other youngling wasn't so lucky.

More projectiles erupted from positions on the ground, one stream clipping his left wing and ripping the fragile structure right off the dart. That was followed moments later by another trio of projectiles, these seemingly able to track their targets. Their impact ripped the youngling's fighter apart, its reactor going critical and exploding spectacularly.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor and knowing that he could return with a hundred times his original numbers, he turned his dart back towards the Stargate, taking the opportunity to sweep up a group of humans running for cover.

* * *

"Shit, hold fire," yelled Sheppard into the comm, "they've got the Colonel."

Sheppard was just in time to watch the enemy fighter dart into the Stargate before the metal ring shut down.

"I take it those were the Wraith," he asked Teyla.

"Obviously," replied the woman. "And now they have some of my people."

Consulting his omni-tool, Sheppard said, "According to the initial recon numbers, they took four of your people along with Colonel Sumner."

"Help! Help me!" yelled Jinto as he came running up behind John. "I can't find my father."

"Fuck," muttered Sheppard under his breath so the voice amp in his helmet wouldn't catch it. "We'll get him back."

Sheppard approached the debris of one of the downed fighters, fires and sparking electronics littering the ground. Movement caught his attention and it was like something out of a horror movie: a severed arm was crawling across the ground. Triggering the arc disruptor built into the front of his rifle, the white lightning hit the detached limb and the thing stopped moving.

"Now you see why I tried to warn you about the Wraith," said Teyla, holding Jinto close. "To defy them is to invite death."

"Well they're not dead yet and until I see the bodies they'll remain that way. Have your people pack up, it's not safe here anymore."

* * *

"Rodney, how's it coming," asked Elizabeth. It'd been almost sixteen hours since Colonel Sumner had set out and six since their last check in.

"I think I've managed to isolate the subsection of the command architecture that the clamp controls are located in. Give me a few more hours."

"Good. What about the reactors?"

"We've got all of our naquadah reactors installed and operating at full efficiency. I estimate that at current consumption, the shield will fail in approximately one hundred, nine hours."

"Well you can do it Rodney, I have confidence in you."

"Really?" asked the scientist.

"Yeah, you are one of the best for a reason."

"Ok, no pressure," replied McKay, twitching slightly. He was about to continue when the Stargate interrupted him.

"Incoming wormhole," announced Dr. Grodin. "I'm reading Major Sheppard's IDC."

"Lower the shield," replied Weir, moving over to the nearby balcony. She expected her team to exit the event horizon. She did not expect them to be followed by almost ninety people, clearly refugees and a load of debris from some sort of ship.

"Major, who are these people?"

"The settlement was attacked and we couldn't leave them there."

"Major, you know we're not exactly in a position to help them."

"Well going back there is suicide. How's McKay coming along?"

"He says he'll have something for us in a few hours," Elizabeth paused as the Stargate shutdown. "Where's the Colonel?"

"He was abducted along with four of their people. This is Teyla, leader of the Athosians."

"This… this is the City of the Ancestors," she said in awe. Even after the events of the past day, she still couldn't bring herself to believe these people's story. Her life had been so full of disappointments that hope was a nearly foreign concept to her. That the descendents of the Ancestors could've returned, that they could fight the Wraith… it was a dream. She was so caught up in the city's architecture, her own thoughts and the study of a massive white machine surrounded by crates tucked in a nearby corner that she almost missed what John said next.

"We need to get them back."

That stopped Teyla. Were they actually suggesting a rescue mission? That was insane, even given their advanced technology. Evidently their leader agreed.

"How do you even know where they were taken? I'm not sending more people out there to die!"

"They're not dead until they're in their graves. Until then they are missing in action doctor and you know that. As to how we can find them, I implanted the worm into the Athos DHD when we came through as is SOP. I've got their location right here," he replied, patting his arm.

Elizabeth stopped at that. It was true that establishing a remote connection was standard operating procedure during off-world missions. And it was also true that you didn't leave people behind, ever. Still, the thought of losing anyone else sent shudders up and down her spine.

"Fine, send a recon drone. If, and I mean IF you have a reasonable chance of pulling off a rescue then I'll authorize it. But I'm not sending you off on a suicide mission. We've already lost a man today and they've," waving her arm at the Athosians, "lost four. I don't want there to be any more loses. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," replied Sheppard, turning to one of the floating machines that had come through with them and that Teyla had somehow failed to notice.

"Surely you are joking," exclaimed the Athosian woman. "Attacking the Wraith is folly!"

"Maybe so," replied Elizabeth with a look of pain on her face, "but Major Sheppard is right. We don't leave people behind."

* * *

As consciousness returned to Colonel Marshall Sumner, one thought managed to pierce his drilling migraine: 'Fuck'.

Assessing himself, he noticed that a migraine wasn't his only problem. He was completely paralyzed with the exception of his eyes. Fortunately, he was still wearing his armor and therefore could control most of its functions with eye movements alone. Accessing the medical exoskeleton, he was relieved to learn that he was uninjured and the paralysis was the result of some sort of energy that had penetrated his armor when he was swept up in that teleportation field; an energy that the exoskeleton was quickly dissipating.

Turning to the armor, the diagnostics reported that, aside from his kinetic barriers and his EW suite, everything was operational and undamaged. As for those systems, they had simply shut off during transport to prevent damage and were on standby. Taking no chances, Sumner activated his armor's interlocks, just in case these aliens wanted to get to the soft, squishy prize inside the hard shell.

It took almost fifteen minutes before feeling returned to his extremities, and almost twenty five before he was able to move more or less normally. That's when he discovered another problem. He was strapped to the damned table!

Tugging on the restraints, he felt them give a bit only to snap back like elastic. His sensors were reporting that the material was some sort of organic matter, similar to skin. While it might be strong enough to hold an average human, it wouldn't be able to stand up to the force he could bring to bear, augmented by the electroactive polymers that made up the second innermost layer of his armor.

He was about to test that theory when he heard footsteps in the hallway outside, the door opening with a sickening slithering/sucking sound a moment later. The being that entered could've been mistaken for human were it not for the snow white hair and skin, slit, yellow eyes and the odd holes on its cheeks, like misplaced nostrils. It moved to look down at him and Sumner had to fight the impulse to move, staying absolutely still. It fumbled with his helmet's catch, trying to remove it but seemed to give up after several minutes, wandering off towards a set of cabinets on the other side of the room.

The Colonel knew that it probably had something in there that could be used to remove his armor and so, with as much strength as he could muster, began pulling on the restraint holding his right arm. At first nothing happened, the strap holding fast. Then, with a ripping sound like snapping celery, the band suddenly gave way and Sumner's arm shot upwards.

The Wraith scientist turned around, startled to find the human sitting up. It simply continued to point its arm at him for a moment longer before yellowish bolts began spewing out of a pair of small holes on the top of the gauntlet that encased its lower arm.

Sumner watched with a sort of savage glee as the explosive bolts from the pair of plasma repeaters mounted in his gauntlet turned the alien's chest into ground beef. After he was sure it was good and dead, he turned to the rest of his restraints, using the second of the three weapons in each of his gauntlets, a small, high intensity cutting laser, to cut through the remaining bindings.

Clear of the table, he walked over to the dead alien, looking down at the thing without a shred of remorse for its death. If these were the aliens that had been terrorizing the Athosians for centuries then they deserved what they got. He was bending down to get a closer look when he heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Using the last of his built in weapons, he triggered his arc disruptor three times, the alien corpse disintegrating in a rippling wave of energy. He then returned to the table and laid back down.

The hunter was eager to examine his catch. Apparently he'd managed to sweep up one of the strange humans that had sought to defy the Wraith during his attack along with the other four. He'd attend to them in due time but for now, he was curious as to what the scientist had found.

Entering the lab, he was surprised to see the Wraith scholar absent but also secretly pleased. He turned to the human lying on the table, moving closer to examine the odd armor it wore. Its helmet was curiously shaped, the 'eyes' somewhat reminding him of his own. He tried to get a closer look when the human's arm shot up, grasping his throat as waves of agony flared to every corner of his body.

Sumner stood back up and watched as the alien spasmed on the floor. He'd have to send a thank you to whoever had decided to include an electrostatic field generator in the Tristan design. Normally the thing was designed to electrify parts or the entirety of the external layer of his armor to provide an advantage in hand to hand. Apparently it also made a very effective non-lethal weapon as well, like a tazer on steroids.

Looking down at the alien he didn't feel a moment's pity and would gladly continue watching it suffer for a few moments longer. However, he did want to get out of here as soon as possible. Placing his armored boot on the alien's chest he bent down and delivered a hard, back-handed slap to its face, snapping it out of its confusion. When he was sure that it was paying attention and keeping his right hand clenched firmly around its throat, he used his left cutting laser to burn a small hole in the floor, two centimeters from the alien's head.

"Ten fingers. Ten toes. Two hands, two feet, two arms, two legs, two ears, two eyes and the delicate bit between the legs. Are we clear who's in charge here?" asked Sumner, the distortion matrix that his voice was piped through turned up to the max, giving it an almost Goa'uldish sound.

The Wraith just hissed before nodding.

"Good. Now I'm going to ask you some questions. Every time you refuse to answer or lie, and believe me I can tell, I will cut something off. Now, why did you attack us?"

The Wraith just hissed at him for a moment before answering. "We detected the return of the Lanteans. It looks like we were correct," it replied with a fearsome smile, razor sharp teeth exposed and glistening, a savage laugh following its words.

Sumner didn't like this thing's attitude and so he delivered a short, sharp jab to its nose, breaking it all over its face. "Next question, where are the others that you abducted with me?"

The alien sounded like it had lost a bit of its arrogance when its nose had been broken. "They're down the hall."

"And my equipment?"

"In the next room."

Sumner looked up, pinging his equipment's trackers. His weapons were most certainly not in the next room, nor were there any life signs down the hall.

"What did I tell you about lying?" he said, moving his hand over the alien's mouth to muffle its screams. He was glad for the air scrubbers in his armor as he was sure that the smell of cauterized Wraith flesh was just as sickening as human flesh.

"Now, let's try again shall we? Where are the humans that you abducted when you took me?"

The Wraith looked up with fear. Never had the histories told of the Lanteans being even remotely this vicious. Looking at the blackened stump of his left hand, the Wraith blurted out, "They're one level down towards the bow of the ship. Your weapons are in a laboratory facility five hundred meters aft."

Confirming the information to his satisfaction Sumner had only one more question, "How many humans have you murdered in your life?"

The Wraith looked back confused. "Do you count your meals?" it hissed, barely managing to keep the pain from working its way into his voice.

"Wrong answer," replied Sumner, burning a hole through its forehead and boiling the brain underneath. Standing up, he triggered his disruptor three more times. If he'd learned anything in his twenty five years in Special Forces it was that you always disposed of the bodies. Now all he had to do was retrieve his equipment, free the Athosians and find a way home.

Hell, he'd had tougher assignments in boot camp.

* * *

"Wormhole established," announced Dr. Grodin from his terminal. Behind him, Rodney was muttering something about unnecessary power utilization while entering commands into no less than five holographic keyboards.

"Send the drone through," replied Weir, waiting for the live feed from 'Robby' as the little machine was shot through subspace.

"We've receiving telemetry," said Grodin, an image materializing in front of them.

Weir studied it for a moment. "I can't see anything."

"No atmospheric readings at all. Inertial sensors indicate the drone in adrift but they are detecting a substantial gravity source nearby."

"Rotate the drone to face it," ordered Sheppard.

The image began changing, the tiny specs of stars streaking across the display until a blue orb with an extensive ring system entered the frame.

"Spectrographic readings indicate a habitable planet."

"So the gate's in space," asked the Major.

"It's in high orbit around a planet on the far side of Pegasus," interjected Rodney, looking up from his work.

"I thought this was just a waste of energy McKay," jabbed Sheppard.

"Yeah well, I'm taking a break."

"So the rescue's off then," sighed Weir.

"Not necessarily," began Sheppard, with a grin. "We brought along three Mantis gunships."

"What good are those going to do us?" asked Grodin. "They're space age attack choppers."

"That's not all they are. The Mantis is modular. They're just used as gunships most of the time. But with a few hours work they can be reconfigured into an air superiority fighter, a high altitude strike bomber, a transport that rivals the Osprey and even an orbital fighter."

"Actually, I've got a better idea," interrupted Rodney. "Follow me," he continued, heading for the nearby staircase.

Intrigued, John followed, climbing the stairs and entering some sort of hanger bay. There were about a dozen small spacecraft sitting in the large, two story room. Overall, Sheppard wasn't all that impressed by the design. "This is what you wanted to show me?"

"Zelenka was just up here telling me about what he found in the database on these things. Apparently they're some sort of gateships."

"Well we're not calling them that," replied the Major. "How about Puddlejumper?"

"That's a terrible name," protested the scientist.

"I like it. So you think I can fly one of these things?"

"Let's find out," he said, heading for the nearest ship's hatch.

As they entered, they were not surprised when the lights suddenly popped on. Almost everyone seemed to be awed by the fact that the city had somehow sensed their presence and awoken. John wasn't one of them. So what, the city had some sort of high tech security system. He was just glad that they didn't have to rush for the deactivation panel and enter a code when they'd come through.

Sitting down at what was obviously the helm, he reached for the control yokes and the whole ship sprung to life around him. "I guess it still works."

"Zelenka said this it had some sort of stealth system, maybe even a cloak," added Rodney, sitting down beside the cocky flyboy.

"So how do I activate it then?" asked John, looking at the strange controls. Why couldn't aliens make their spaceships with logical controls? He'd been up in one of the sixty or so captured Al'kesh from the Erebus invasion and had not been impressed.

"Well most Ancient tech works by thought control so, think 'invisible'," replied McKay, knowing that he sounded like an idiot.

Sheppard just gave him a strange look and closed his eyes, doing as he was told. "Um, how do we know its working?"

"Well…," said Rodney before he stood up and exited the spacecraft. "IT'S WORKING!" he shouted.

"Why are you yelling?"

"I… I don't know."

Elizabeth entered the hanger and was treated to one of the strangest sights she'd ever seen: Rodney McKay yelling at thin air.

"…AND I DON'T KNOW WHY I PUT UP WITH IT. YOU PEOPLE ARE SUCH PAINS IN THE…"

"Rodney, who are you yelling at?"

"Sheppard, he right there," replied the scientist, pointing at the empty space in front of him.

Weir was just about to call Doctor Heightmeyer and the men with straightjackets when one of the ships that dotted the bay suddenly appeared in front of her.

"This advantage enough for you Doctor?" asked Sheppard over the ship's external speakers.

"So you can fly that thing. Doesn't mean you can stage a rescue."

"Doctor, this is why you brought me. Well that and my mutant genes."

For the first time in her life, Doctor Elizabeth Weir, PhD and noted diplomat knew that she had been completely outmaneuvered.

* * *

Halling was saying his final prayers to the Ancestors. They had taken Toran an hour ago and he knew that he would most likely be next. He didn't fear death, no. But he did regret that he wouldn't be around to see Jinto take his first rights and become a man.

He could hear the approaching footstep and watched as the three Wraith came around the corner. Their leader, the one with a face looked at him and smiled its toothy grin and he knew that in moments his life would be drained out of his body. All he could do was face his death with dignity.

The monsters approached the cage they'd been kept in and just as the leader was reaching for the control to open the door, a stream of yellow bolts slammed into one of the guards throwing it back into the wall. It tried to stand up again, the other two turning to face the source of the attack when more of the yellow fire slammed into its chest, splattering its guts all over the wall.

Halling watched in amazement as one of the newcomers ran down the hallway, firing with perfect accuracy at the Wraith. His heart skipped as the leader managed to hit the warrior with his stunner, only for the energy to wash over his armor with no apparent effect. By the time the second guard went down, the man was almost within striking distance of the leader. The Wraith took a swing at him and he ducked, delivering a punch straight to its stomach. There was a crackling sound in the air followed by the sickening smell of charred flesh and the final Wraith collapsed in a boneless lump.

"We're saved," gasped one of his remaining companions, a woman known as Marta.

"Keep it down," hissed the human, his voice coming out through the grill in the front of his helmet. Halling recognized the voice as that of these people's leader, Colonel Sumner. "Stand back from the door."

The three Athosians did as they were told and watched amazed as a beam of green light sprang out from just above his hand. He used it to cut through the door along its edges until the spider web-like structure simply collapsed under its own weight.

"Well, what are you waiting for; an engraved invitation?" growled the human Warrior.

"No, it's just, we've never seen anything like that before," replied Halling, exiting the cell and grabbing the fallen Wraith's pistol. "What now?"

"Now you follow me, keep quiet and maybe we'll get out of here alive. I still have to recover my equipment before we can leave."

With that, he turned around and walked off; his body language showing that he knew exactly where he was going.

Halling pickup up one of the bulbous stick-like rifles and passed it to Marta. The Colonel was right. They may just get out of this alive.

* * *

The Puddlejumper shot out of the wormhole, its drive pods immediately deploying as it disappeared from sight. Stopping only for a moment, John decompressed the rear compartment and opened the hatch to recover 'Robby'; the marine contingent in back not even phased by the fact that they'd just been exposed to hard vacuum.

"So where do we go from here," asked his second, Israeli Sayeret Matkal Rasan (Major) Zarah Moshe, her exotic accent distracting John for a moment.

"Well I was thinking about that…," he began, the Jumper's HUD popping up in front of him. "I was thinking we'd follow the glowing hologram."

"You Americans are quite adept are you not?" she replied, the humor clear in her voice despite the obscuring helmet and distortion matrix. "We can track him using his sub-dermal transponder. What I would not have given for one of those a few years ago."

"Sounds like an interesting story," replied John.

"Not as such. More unpleasant than anything else," she replied, turning away.

John knew not to push her. He'd worked around enough IDF to know that they were not people you wanted to irritate, much less Israeli Special Forces. The Jumper began entering the atmosphere, a slight amount of turbulence making it through the inertial dampening field and forcing him to correct their course a few times.

As the plasma streamers cleared and they passed through the clouds, the shape of a massive structure came into view on the distant horizon. "I'm detecting the subspace signal of the Colonel's transponder and his armor. If it's still active… Sheppard to Colonel Sumner, do you receive?"

* * *

Sumner made his way down the deserted hallways. According to his sensors, this place was huge and yet there was almost no one around. "Where is everybody?" he whispered.

"The Wraith hibernate between cullings," supplied Halling, following at his side. "Our numbers are insufficient to sustain them so they sleep between the great feedings."

"So most of them are asleep? Let's try to keep it that way."

As he was about to trigger to door to the room that his weapons were being stored in, a crackle of static sounded in his ears.

"Sheppard to Colonel Sumner, do you receive?"

The colonel smirked at that; the man had excellent timing. "I receive you major. What took you so long?"

"Oh you know, traffic. Had to stop for gas and this thing hasn't had its five million mile tune up yet."

"Well good timing anyway. I've managed to locate and free three of the Athosians but I don't know about the forth. I'll retrieve my equipment and then try and find him."

"Understood sir, we're going to land and try and find a way in to assist you and provide an exit. I'll contact you when we're inside. Sheppard out."

Halling was looking at him and Sumner realized that the man had only heard one side of the conversation. "We've got a ride out of here. Just need to get my stuff and find your friend and we can blow this place."

"He is most likely dead," replied Halling sadly.

"Well then we'll find his body. Either way, we've not leaving him behind." Sumner turned to the door and triggered the control to the side, the hatch splitting open like a beetle's wings. Entering the room, the Colonel was satisfied to find his gear sitting spread out on a table and apparently intact. Gathering up the six weapons; a Carniflex hand cannon, Tempest SMG, Scimitar shotgun, Vindicator assault rifle, M-77 Missile Launcher and a twelve inch trinium battle knife with a carbon fiber grip, Sumner was finally feeling a bit more comfortable with his surroundings. Sure, the gauntlet mounted weapons were fine and all, but he felt better with a rifle in his hands.

Turning to the Athosians, he noticed the strange looks he was getting. "What?"

"Are you sure you're not from Sateda?"

"Never heard of the place; I'm from Seattle."

* * *

The Puddlejumper set down a slight bump, the soldiers standing up and checking their gear one last time. The six recon drones, having proven their utility on Athos floated above them, waiting for the someone to pop the hatch.

"Remember, our goal is to get in, find the colonel and the Athosians and get out with a minimum of combat," said Sheppard. "We've got those tactical cloaks for a reason so use them," he continued, referring to the advanced adaptive camouflage module that was built into their armor. It was only good for about a minute between recharges but everyone present knew that in combat a minute was a lifetime.

"Understood sir," replied Zarah, entering commands into the Tempest; the weapon looking slightly unwieldy as she attached a silencer its muzzle with a click. "Do we have a location on the Colonel?"

"He's pretty deep inside the structure and the ambient energy the stuff this place in made out of is emitting is scattering the results a bit. Looks like we'll have to fall back on the good old mark one eyeball."

They Zarah snorted at that. All this fancy technology and they were still relying on the basic tracking skills she'd learned when she was eight.

The soldiers filed out of the jumper, appearing as if from thin air into the clearing. "Everyone remember where we parked," quipped Sheppard over the comm.

They quickly made their way through the dense underbrush, moving towards the massive facility that was apparently buried deep inside a hill. Following what was clearly a well-worn path led them straight to a hatch. A quick inspection showed located what appeared to be a control and to their surprise, the doors slid open. It wasn't even locked!

"Sheppard to Sumner, we've located an exit for you. Transmitting our coordinates."

"Rodger that. I think we're close to finding the last Athosian. I could use some backup here Major."

"Understood. Dmitri, Thompson, Perrot, you guys stay here and keep this entrance secure. The rest of you with me. Activate your stealth systems."

Seven confirmation lights flickered on John's HUD as the men and women under his command followed his orders. The three on sentry duty almost seemed to melt into their surroundings while the other four moved quickly, but deadly silent into the structure, Sheppard taking up the rear.

They walked for about three minutes, the Colonel's transponder giving them a general direction.

Zarah crouched down, inspecting the floor before triggering her comm. "Four sets of prints including a set of Tristan armor boots. They came through here."

"Then we know we're on the right track. Transponder's been getting clearer as we've been getting closer," replied John. "I've got four life signs. Distance fifty meters."

"Sheppard, where the hell are you?" demanded the Colonel's voice over the comm.

"About fifty meters at your seven o'clock."

"Rodger that," replied Sumner, sparing a glance behind him. Five blue diamonds floated on his HUD, indicating his people's positions through the walls. "I've located some sort of chamber. I'm going to take a look."

The Colonel stalked into the large chamber, the mist that obscured the ground growing thicker as he got further in. The chamber was empty aside from a table and a set of chairs. Covering it were bowls of strange looking fruits and a platter with the cooked head of some sort of animal, one that looked vaguely like a hippopotamus. Inspecting the scene he noticed the skeletal remains of a human and recognized the clothing.

"Damn," he muttered. It was the last Athosian.

A slithering sound caught his attention, coming from behind. We whirled around and found himself staring at another of the aliens, this time a female with bright pink hair. She was surrounded by at least eight of the alien Wraith with the chitinous masks on their faces. He knew that he could probably take five of these fucks on his own but eight against one…; the dispersive weave in his armor would be overwhelmed by that much firepower. Glancing to the side, he could see that his reinforcements were only thirty meters away, likely slowed down by the maze-like corridors of this place. So all he had to do was buy time.

"Curioussss," it hissed. "I have watched you for some time as you've hunted through this vessel. As you've tortured and killed my subjects. I have never encountered one such as you before. What do you call yourself?"

"Colonel Marshall Sumner, United States Marine Core."

"So little fear. Is it valor, or ignorance that drives you?"

"A little from column A, a little from column B," he replied smartly. Twenty meters. "We travel through the Stargate as peaceful explorers. But as your… subjects have learned, we are more than capable of defending ourselves; unlike your victim over there," nodding towards the decimated remains of Toran.

"He was hungry; we provided sustenance. In this we are similar, the need to feed."

"It doesn't look like it agreed with him."

"In that we are very different, Colonel Sumner. We don't require our food to agree with us."

"Why did you attack us? The real reason, not the one you man provided."

"He was not lying. We detected a signal we have not heard in ten thousand years. But it is more. You trespassed on our feeding grounds."

"You should've posted signs," replied the Colonel, trying to provoke a response. Ten meters.

Halling watched the scene from just outside the entry to the hall. He'd never seen anything like what he was witness to. Nine Wraith surrounded the man and he was casually bantering with them, trading insults without a care in the world. He knew they were aware of the three Athosians watching them, the Wraith could sense people somehow. But obviously they didn't care. Turning to his companions he stifled a gasp as five more of these humans materialized out of the dark hallway.

"Halling, its Sheppard."

"It is good to see you. You commander looks as if he could use some assistance."

Turning to the room he was about to intervene when his radio crackled. "Sheppard, hold your position. Do not engage unless I give the order or they start shooting."

Sumner turned to the Wraith woman, who he could only think of as a queen. The title seemed to fit her somehow.

"What do you call your world," she asked, her voice seemingly echoing inside his mind. Great, she's a frigging psychic too.

Resisting for as long as he could Sumner eventually answered, "Earth."

"It is not among our stars. Tell me of Earth. How many more are there of your kind?"

Sumner summoned what remained of his rapidly depleting strength, fighting against this strange interrogative technique.

She smiled at this; he was strong. "Thousands? Millions? More. Our feeding grounds have not been so rich in thousands of years."

"You'll never reach it. We'll shatter your vessels and turn your kind to radioactive vapor before that happens," breathed Sumner.

If anything that made her grin grow wider. "The Lanteans said much the same. And look at where that thinking got them."

"We're not the Lanteans. And you're don't have the forces you had ten millennia ago," replied Sumner as she released him from her mental control. He was guessing at that last fact but it seemed likely.

"Perhaps. Your will is strong. This one," stroking Toran's skull, "begged for its life. As will you."

"If that's how you're going to be then we're done talking."

"I think not. Kneel," she began, but before she could exert her will over his the head of the nearest drone exploded. More figures like the human before her swarmed the room and her guards went down, their bodies broken and ripped in half from kinetic shockwaves.

"As I said," said Sumner, pointing the business end of his rifle at the surprised Wraith woman. "It's never going to happen." Triggering the built in disruptor, the alien dropped.

"Sir, are you ok?" asked Sheppard.

"Yeah. Strangest thing I've ever experienced though. What's our status?"

"We've got a ship standing by to get us out of here."

"Good, someone grab that bitch. We'll take her with us and interrogate her when we get back to Atlantis."

"Right, Brinkman grab her," ordered Sheppard. The marine quickly picked the alien up in a fireman's carry, slinging her over his shoulders.

"One more thing I need to do before we get out of here," continued Sumner, walking over to the nearest console. Activating his omni-tool, he waited as his personal tactical VI forced a link with the local network, brute forcing its way through the pathetic system security. Quickly locating the self-destruct, he set it for remote activation before rejoining his men. "Let's get out of here."

The six turned back towards the doorway and exited the room, the three Athosians giving Sergeant Brinkman as wide a berth as possible. They made quick progress towards the exit but about a hundred meters from their goal; the first warrior drones intercepted them. Expecting the humans to take cover, the biological automatons were surprised, at least as surprised as they could be, when the humans simply continued without even slowing down, ripping them apart with short, accurate bursts from their weapons. By the time they reached the exit, the floors of the Hive were slick with blood and the Athosians had to be careful not to slip.

Joined by the three sentries, the group made good time back to the clearing where the jumper waited; darts buzzing overhead, their pilots desperately trying to avoid being shot down by the undetectable recon drones or tagged by the rocket launcher wielding soldiers down below. Many were not successful in that objective and the debris of dozens of darts littered the ground.

Entering the cloaked spacecraft, Sheppard rushed for the pilots seat while Sumner took the co-pilot's and the Athosians crowded the forward section behind them, not wanting to be anywhere near the Wraith prisoner. Activating the systems, the small craft came to life and lifted off the second the last man was through the door. All around them, the recon drones formed up, using their controller's subspace transponders to locate the invisible ship. As the Jumper approached the maximum operational altitude of the drones, they quickly filed through the open rear hatch, the last just squeaking in before it sealed.

"Hold on," yelled Sumner as he triggered the Hive's self-destruct.

The blast wave was immense, the massive reactors that powered the eleven kilometer long ship detonating with the equivalent of hundreds of megatons of nuclear ordinance. Bringing the ship around, they were greeted by a massive, blackened, smoking crater. Judging by the gasps behind him, Sumner could tell that the Athosians were impressed.

"Take us home major," said the colonel just as the ship was rocked by weapons fire. "I thought we were cloaked!"

"Must've been knocked out in the blast," replied Sheppard, franticly maneuvering. Why the hell didn't this thing have shields? Even their fighters had shields!

"Well then shoot back," demanded Sumner.

"I'm trying," said John just as a trio of familiar glowing projectiles shot out from the starboard weapons pod and impaled the nearest enemy fighter. "Huh, did I do that?"

"Stop thinking and do it again!"

John cut thrust and spun the surprisingly agile craft around on its z-axis catching the pursuing darts by surprise. Letting loose with six of the glowing missiles, the phased, plasma-wrapped smart weapons ripped the three enemy fighters apart. Coming about again he boosted for the Stargate while Sumner dialed Atlantis, sending his IDC through.

"Let's hope they got that," commented Sheppard as another wave of missiles swept four more darts from the sky. The jumper charged the Stargate and just as it was about to impact the event horizon, drive pods retracted into the hull.

* * *

"Incoming wormhole!"

Elizabeth rushed for the nearest overlook, waiting for her people to return.

"I'm receiving Colonel Sumner's IDC," announced Grodin with a big grin; a grin that immediately vanished as he continued reading. "Code Alpha!"

"Defense teams," yelled Elizabeth, two dozen soldiers taking up position with their weapons pointed at the gate. "Lower the shield!"

The translucent energy barrier disappeared and only a few seconds passed before the Jumper came barreling through, barely stopping before it plowed into the staircase.

"Raise the shield!" demanded the diplomat. The energy barrier reestablished itself just in time for three somethings to slam into the shield and disintegrate. A moment later, the Stargate shut down and the Puddlejumper hovering up into the bay above.

They'd made it.

* * *

"We're ready," said Rodney as he entered a few last commands into the terminal before him.

"Activate the intercom," ordered Weir. A loud click rang out from hidden speakers. "This is Doctor Weir. We're about to release the clamps that hold us on the ocean floor. Everyone brace themselves." She nodded at the portly scientist.

A loud series of bangs reverberated throughout the massive structure's hull and a slight feeling of disorientation washed over the personnel, Terran and Athosian. The snowflake shaped city ship began rising like a submarine performing an emergency blow. Sitting only a few hundred meters below the surface on the tip of a continental shelf, or what used to be a continental shelf about a billion years earlier, it took only a few moments for the command tower to breech the surface, water slewing off it in great waves. More and more spires punched their way through the calm ocean waves and with a great groan the main superstructure broke the surface.

A massive wave radiated out from the glistening structure, its silver and bronze and crystal reflecting the setting sunlight.

Atlantis had risen.


	12. Chapter Nine Legacy of Violence

**Chapter Nine – The Legacy of Violence**

_Hindu-Kush Mountain Range, Southeastern Afghanistan_

_143km Northeast of Kandahar, Afghanistan/Pakistan Border_

_July 03, 2004_

The land was hot, dry and barren like much of Afghanistan. For thousands of years the people had endured against such powers as Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan and the Soviet Union. And it was a relic of the last that had drawn the attention of Captain Richard Swanson and the rest of the 82nd Airborne's Brigade Combat Team One on this scorching Saturday morning.

The massive underground bunker had been built in the early 1980s as one of four secure command facilities for the invading Soviet Army. Abandoned during the pullout in '89 and more or less forgotten in the ensuing civil war that had led to the rise of the Taliban, today it served as a major safe-house for the insurgency and if intelligence was to be believed, held the one person that, above all others, had been sought for more than three long, bloody years: Osama bin Mohammed bin Awad bin Laden, better known simply as Osama bin Laden; the man who had been responsible for the deaths of more than six thousand men, women and children during the nine-eleven attacks.

Stationed on a hill overlooking the valley that led to the primary entrance, Richard watched with an almost savage glee as the latest in a long series of artillery barrages slammed into a column of 'freedom fighters' that attempted to delay the advancing allied armor. It was almost pitiful, he thought, watching these cowards trying to stop the power of the American army. Like many of his peers, Swanson had lost friends and seen civilians butchered by these bastard's ambushes and kidnappings; recovering little more than their broken and sometimes beheaded corpses. More so, he'd lost a close friend when American Airlines Flight 77 had slammed into the Pentagon on that sunny morning three years ago.

His job, what little there was to do these days, was as a joint forward observer for the artillery. Most of the work was being actually done by the VI in charge of the local BattleNet, which was guiding the fire of over a hundred artillery pieces; systematically slaughtering any and all resistance as it swarmed out of the underground fortress. Watching the scene, he was surprised when the blocky forms of a line of old Soviet T-80 tanks began to appear. That was a cause of concern. While the T-80 was an antique of the cold war, it was still a considerable threat to the M1A2s that were assaulting the mountain. And command had been quite clear on this: no unnecessary casualties. Deciding to nip the problem in the bud, he tapped his radio.

"This is Juliet, Foxtrot, Oscar one two. Have spotted a column of Soviet Tango eight zero tanks emerging from the mountain. Recommend priority target for artillery."

"Rodger one two," replied the voice of Colonel Russell Manning, the head of the 82nd's First Brigade Combat Team and Richard's boss' boss. "We have something special in mind for them."

That raised a few eyebrows among the soldiers nearby. When the colonel deployed 'special' surprises, it was usually a bad day to be the enemy. Contemplating just what his surprise would be, Swanson watched as first one, then two, then dozens of bright red beams of energy lanced from the sky, ripping the entire column of enemy tanks asunder. The attack lasted only a few seconds and when the bombardment, and it was definitely a bombardment, let up, the entire area around the entrance to the enemy compound was littered with flaming debris. Not a single piece of enemy armor was intact.

"What the hell was that?" gasped a nearby lieutenant.

"This is Saratoga," replied a voice over the general command frequency, seemingly in response to the hanging question. "Orbital bombardment complete. Standing by."

Looking at the charred debris below, Swanson let out a long, low whistle. He'd been right; it was a bad day to be the Taliban.

* * *

Down in the valley, a procession of armored personnel carriers and infantry fighting vehicles began swarming towards the main entrance; their various turreted armaments ripping the dazed and confused defenders apart. 'That's one of the main advantages of laser weapons,' thought Colonel Manning. 'Not only are they hyper accurate but they daze nearby resistance like oversized flash bangs.'

As the M-35B MAKO IFV came to a stop, the Colonel checked his rifle one last time. He was glad to see the advanced equipment was beginning to funnel into the Middle Eastern campaigns. Hell, the MAKOs alone had prevented dozens of potential deaths and hundreds of injuries over the past few months; their advanced sensor arrays and kinetic barriers making them perfect lead vehicles for convoys, sniffing out ambushes and IEDs before they could be sprung. He'd even heard the troops had a nickname for the sleek six wheeled vehicles: 'Guardian Angels'. While they didn't have enough to completely replace the older vehicles yet, more and more were showing up each day. And they only made his job easier.

Hopping out of the machine, he brought his FN SCAR up, snapping off a half dozen shots and bringing down an insurgent holding an RPG-7 that the other troops had missed. Many found it odd that he was participating in such a dangerous operation. But the truth was if bin Laden was in there, he sure as hell wasn't missing this operation.

The squad that had been assigned to protect him by one of his subordinates, something he found amusing as all hell, closed ranks around their commanding officer and as a group began advancing towards the massive entrance, gunning down anything that got in their way. At one time, the huge, half meter thick door might have held them off; designed to protect against direct nuclear strikes. But in the intervening decade and a half, the powerful mechanisms had rusted into uselessness and the door was stuck open.

It was only a few minutes before they'd secured a foothold into the base and squads began spitting up to cover the warren of underground caverns, directed by Manning using a detailed map of the facility that they'd acquired using the powerful, Asgard based sensors installed on an increasing number of MQ-1C Super Predator drones. When all the assignments had been handed out, the colonel folded up the map and, with squad in tow, began making his way towards the base's command center.

They encountered fiercer resistance as they got deeper and deeper into the massive underground facility. Still, under equipped and outnumbered, the enemy fighters couldn't stop the much better trained army soldiers. More so, they had begun to encounter known, low ranking members of al-Qaeda, helpfully identified by the colonel's VI via his helmet cam.

They were getting closer.

Approaching a staircase with the hammer and sickle symbol of the long since defunct Soviet Union hanging over it, the squad was forced to take cover. The defenders had set up a heavy machine gun and were spewing an almost continuous stream of suppressive fire down the hallway. Manning knew it was likely a delaying action so that they could buy enough time to evacuate the VIPs.

"Sir, let me handle this," replied one of his escorts, unlimbering a boxy weapon from his back. Tapping a few commands into the weapon, Manning was surprised to recognize an M-511 Arc Projector take shape. He'd only been briefed a few weeks ago on the new weapons that were making their way into the field. Still, he couldn't help but smirk.

"Let 'er rip sergeant," he replied, a feral grin crossing his face. "Covering fire!" he yelled, sticking his rifle around the corner and blind firing down the hallway. A loud whining sound began to overpower the assorted pops and cracks of rifle fire followed by a buzzing sound and screams of pain. Peeking around the pitted concrete, Manning watched as the defenders stumbled around before collapsing to the ground, blackened and twitching. Say what you would, getting hit by about ten million volts of electricity was a painful, if mercifully quick way to die. Then again, these bastards had done far worse in their time, he was sure.

The squad quickly reformed and made their way passed the former defensive position and down the staircase. Before them stood a large, locked blast door, the electronic controls smashed into uselessness.

"Burn it down," he ordered, pointing at the door.

The squad's demolitions expert went to work, quickly placing shaped charges around the door's edges. They all retreated up the staircase and with a final nod from the colonel, the woman triggered the charges. A sizzling flash of light burst up the staircase, followed by an acidic stench of the thermal compound melting through reinforced steel. A few pops of AK fire quickly followed, the remaining defenders hoping to catch the invaders off guard and in the process simply wasting their remaining ammunition.

Taking a flashbang from his combat harness, Manning tossed the cylindrical device down the stairs with expert precision, honed by almost thirty years of experience, straight into the large room. Shouts of pain followed the bright flash of light and the squad rushed down the steps, taking the room by storm before the enemy could recover.

"Sir, over here," called a lieutenant.

Manning walked over to find the scruffy form of not only Osama bin Laden but also his second Ayman al-Zawahiri pinned to the ground and under the rifles of four of his men. "Well I'll be damned. Looks like our Intel was right for once."

"Well it had to happen once in our lifetimes," replied the same lieutenant. "But never again to be sure."

Manning let out a bark of laughter at that. "No kidding. What's your name son?"

"Lieutenant Robert Sinclair sir," replied the soldier, snapping a quick salute.

"Well you better prepare yourself for the greatest struggle of your life."

"Why's that sir?" asked the young man, confusion clear on his face.

"Because after this, you're probably the most famous member of the armed forces and the press will be on you like bloodhounds."

The look of horror that crossed the lieutenant's face was something that Manning would remember for a long, long time.

* * *

_Press Briefing Room_

_The White House, Washington DC_

Stepping into the feeding pit, as she colorfully called it in the privacy of her own mind, Sarah Cregg could already feel the headache coming on. Reporters from all sides were closing in, demanding answers as to why they'd all been called in on a bright Sunday morning.

"Can I…," she began; her voice drowned out by forty nine information piranhas each trying to get a word in edgewise. "Hey, let's… WILL YOU ALL SHUT THE HELL UP?" That brought about silence in the small, dank and quite frankly, slightly musty room. 'Looks like I'll have to have a word with maintenance,' she thought, 'again.' "How about we do this like we have for, oh I don't know, the last six months? That way you'll have something to report to your publishers for the Monday deadline and maybe I'll still be speaking to some of you at the end of the day."

"Good. Now do you all think you can stay still long enough for the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs to make a statement or do I have to carry out my threat of buying gags in bulk for all of you? No? Good. Well then, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, General Francis Maynard."

Though he was not the president, every member of the press stood up, a sign of respect for the older general. "Thank you. Today at approximately 0945 local time, members of the 82nd Airborne successfully captured Osama bin Laden and his second Ayman al-Zawahiri during a raid of a former Soviet Army facility 143km northeast of Kandahar. During the battle, roughly four hundred Taliban and Al-Qaeda fighters were killed and another six hundred twenty seven were captured, including senior leaders of both the Taliban and members of the Shura Council, the advisory committee to bin Laden. This victory represents the most significant victory against both organizations since the Taliban lost control of Afghanistan during the NATO invasion in 2001. Now rather than continue to lecture, I'll open the floor up to questions."

"Rob Volcker, MSNBC News. Did our forces suffer any casualties?"

"Because of the extensive intelligence gathered prior to the operation, no American soldiers were killed during the operation. There were seventeen injuries but all are expected to make a full recovery within the next few weeks. Next question."

"Bethany Roslin, New York Times. How were we able to gather said intelligence?"

"I can understand the intimation in your question. No, we did not use torture in any way, shape or form to acquire the information in question. Instead we were able to make use of a variety of new technologies that have become available since Disclosure including advanced Asgard sensor technologies. A UAV equipped with those scanners can easily detect anything from the chemicals that are a part of bullets and explosives to the unique biological signature of a person based on a sample of their DNA; allowing us to detect weapon caches or wanted persons."

"We've also begun to use numerous virtual intelligences in an intelligence analysis role to allow us to filter through the truly massive amounts of routine information we receive each day from cameras, sensors and other sources. One of the problems we've begun to run into over the past few years is that the information load on our intelligence community has simply been too great. Now according to the most recent studies, only approximately twenty percent of gathered intelligence was even being looked at, much less properly analyzed. Through the use of advanced software, including VIs, we've been able to boost that number to nearly nighty-five percent by allowing the computers to handle the routine stuff. This allows our flesh and blood analysts more time and resources to focus on subtle and complex patterns and ultimately put the big picture together."

"However the most significant of these new technologies are the use of both Goa'uld memory recall devices and Tok'ra Za'tarc detectors. Lieutenant Colonel Davis here," gesturing to the man standing beside him, "can provide an overview of those technologies. Colonel?"

"Thank you general. Both of the technologies in question were encountered during the first few years of the Stargate program and are designed to work conjunction to provide detailed information that would normally be restricted to a person's mind. The recall devices allow us to project both a visual and auditory simulation of a person's surface thoughts while the Za'tarc detectors are in essence hyper-sophisticated lie detectors. When used in conjunction and when combined with other non-invasive interrogation techniques, they allow our interrogators to rapidly extract information from a subject, regardless of whether or not he or she is cooperative."

"A follow up," continued Roslin, quickly jotting notes down on her notepad. "Does either of those devices cause any injuries?"

"No. There is a slight discomfort when the recall device is first applied but other than that, they are incapable of causing physical harm."

"Thank you Colonel," interrupted the general. He didn't want too much information on their new techniques to find its way into the public consciousness. Already he could hear the indignant cries of civil liberty groups wafting into his office. Those people and their constant baying about privacy concerns. "Next question."

"Samantha Tristan, LA Times. With the capture of the leadership of Al-Qaeda and the Taliban, what is the plan for Afghanistan?"

"Over the past four months, we've begun to implement a new counterinsurgency strategy to cripple the Taliban and ultimately to allow us to withdraw once the country has stabilized. This strategy focuses on attacking and destroying the three pillars of the insurgency, without which they cannot continue to fight."

"Three pillars?" asked the reporter.

"Yes, money, leadership and weaponry. In the case of the first, the insurgents have been funding themselves primarily through the distribution of opium, grown by Afghan farmers. In the past we've attempted to interdict the drugs before the farmers could sell them to the insurgents without success. Our efforts have only managed to earn us the farmer's ire and attempts to convince them to grow food crops have proven ineffective as opium fetches a higher price."

"So what's changed?"

"With the introduction of sophisticated sensors that can track substances such as opium, we've been intercepting the drug shipments after they've been purchased from the farmers but before they leave the country. This strategy has not only prevented an estimated one point two billion dollars worth of drugs, or approximately thirty percent of annual total opium production in Afghanistan, from leaving the country over the past four months but has also been responsible for the termination of sixty-seven major drug smuggling operations worldwide. Simply put, we're raising the cost of the opium trade in Afghanistan and making it less profitable for Afghan farmers to grow poppies and therefore more profitable form them to grow food."

"What about weaponry?"

"Weaponry in Afghanistan comes from two sources. Either smuggled in from abroad or what's left over from the Soviet invasion in the eighties. In the case of the first, we've quadrupled the number of drone patrols we have along the Iranian and Pakistani borders and doubled the patrols along the Turkmen, Uzbek and Tajik borders. We're using our new MQ-1C Super Predator drones for the operations as they can remain aloft for long durations and are equipped with both the same advanced sensors that have proven so effective against drugs and a pulse laser cannon along with their standard compliment of missiles."

"When a group fighters or smugglers attempt to cross the border in an unauthorized location, the drones report the incident to central command. Once we confirm that they are not cleared for entry into Afghanistan, we order the nearest drone to warn the offending party off with a barrage of laser fire targeted near their position. If that proves ineffective, they fire on the targets with low power laser bursts which while harmless are quite painful; immobilizing them long enough for a fast reaction team to arrive and take them into custody. Using this strategy, we've interdicted close to two thousand unauthorized attempts to enter Afghanistan over the past three months and have all but severed the Afghan insurgency from outside support."

"And the weapons already present?"

"As we look for drug shipments, we frequently detect weapon caches, improvised explosive devices, bomb factories and other suspicious activities. When that happens, we quickly move to secure the sites in question, further depriving the insurgents of material critical to their efforts. We've also implemented a systematic sweep of the country to catch any caches we miss, beginning in the south and working our way north. To date we've sized approximately twenty thousand assault rifles, five thousand rocket launchers, hundreds of tons of ammunition, explosives and landmines and tens of millions of dollars of stolen foreign aid. We also frequently capture wanted low and mid level members of the insurgency who, after interrogation, lead us to other wanted persons. So far it's proven quite effective."

Maynard was about to continue when the beeping of pagers and blackberries interrupted him, most of the press corps looking down at their electronic masters.

"Helena Hackett, CNBC. General, we're receiving word of the sweeping arrest by American, British and Canadian forces of nearly a third of the Afghan federal government and almost half of the existing provincial governments. Any comments?"

"Well I was hoping to finish this briefing before word of that reached you guys actually," joked the normally taciturn military leader, earning a round of polite chuckles from the assembled reporters. "Yes, Allied Forces have removed a significant portion of the Afghan government from power including acting President Hamid Karzai on charges of corruption and aiding and abetting the insurgency. We decided to take these actions after we were presented with evidence of their collusion recovered during not only this morning's raid but also taken during the anti-narcotics crackdown over the past three months."

"What will happen now?" asked Hackett.

"Let me be clear. We are not interfering with the democratic elections taking place at the moment. The Afghan people are free to vote for whoever they want, even former acting president Karzai. That said I need to make this clear. We entered Afghanistan three years ago because the people in power at the time, the Taliban, had actively supported the terrorists that were responsible for the deaths of almost six thousand people on nine-eleven. The international community, including the United States, will not continue to allow corruption and deceit to rule Afghanistan. If we find credible intelligence that you are working against the interests of the United States and her allies, the Afghani people and the peace of the world, we will bring you to justice. The days of us looking the other way are at an end. Thank you."

* * *

_Stargate Command_

_Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado Springs_

"For those of you just tuning in," announced the news anchor, "that was Chairman of the Joint Chiefs General Francis Maynard, live from the White House announcing the capture of Osama bin Laden and the surprise removal of nearly half of the Afghan government. We'll bring you in-depth analysis of today's events coming up at the top of the hour. In other news, Democratic Senator Barack Obama today introduced a bill calling for sweeping reforms to the country's financial regulations, saying the current system is quote 'a recipe for disaster that could lead to the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression'. Senate Republicans…"

Jack O'Neill snorted as he turned off the television. He doubted it would be as easy as Maynard was making it out to be. Afghanistan was a disaster after the mismanagement of the previous administration. He'd been there in the past, during the later days of the Soviet invasion and he knew that, amongst all the nations in the world, Afghanistan was the one that would outlast any attempts to tame it; like the metaphorical cockroach before the atomic weapon of peace. Sure it wasn't the best analogy but it worked.

Turning back to the pile of paperwork that littered his desk, Jack picked up a report that actually made him smile. The Nautilus, the successor to the Prometheus and the prototype for the new line of battlecruisers was roughly half way through its construction cycle was would launch at the end of August, barring any major delays. 'Like those never happen,' he snarked in the back of his mind as he stood up, hoping to read the schematics of the absurdly over-gunned warship over lunch. Big honking space guns went down well with roast beef.

So one could imagine his disappointment as a familiar klaxon sounded. "Unscheduled activation."

Sighing and dropping the report on his desk, Jack promised horrible, bloody revenge on whoever was interrupting his lunch plans. Currently his target was the little sergeant that managed the circus that was the Stargate control room. "What've we got?"

"Sir, we've receiving an incoming transmission from our salvage team on Tollana."

"Put it up," he replied, looking up at the monitor above his head and wishing, not for the first time that they had the new, high definition holographic system installed. The familiar face of Colonel Edwards of SG-11 appeared, looking a bit tired. "What've you got Colonel?"

"We just got the Stargate set up and we thought we'd call in."

"How's it looking over there?" asked Jack, a twinge of guilt washing over him. After all, the entire Tollan civilization had sacrificed themselves to save Earth, if unwittingly.

"It's pretty bad sir. We're in what remains of the capital city has been leveled, at least on the surface. We're detecting a substantial amount of subterranean infrastructure below us, most of it still intact."

"That tracks with our intel. Tanith was recalled by Anubis after a day or so due to rising tensions with the System Lords so the Goa'uld never really had a chance to salvage anything. Any sign of survivors?"

"Not yet sir however we have found something that looks like an entrance to an underground shelter of some sort, about a click east of the capital. Might be their version of Cheyenne."

"Look into it Colonel," ordered the general. "We owe them and if any of them are still alive, we have to find them."

"Understood sir. Edwards out," he signed off, the Stargate shutting down a moment later.

Jack sighed. Suddenly roast beef didn't sound as appetizing.

* * *

_Tollana, Eta Tau Cluster, Orion Arm_

_2,823LY Corewards of Sol_

They had detected the incoming vessel, a Goa'uld Al'kesh no less. After all these years, they had returned to take what little was left of their world.

For Narim, this was the day he had feared for almost three years, yet at the same time a day he had been surprised hadn't happened three years earlier. Assembling his recon team, a concept he'd patterned off those of Earth, they made their way out of one of dozens of exits to the underground shelter. The concrete, steel and trinium fortress held what remained of his people, almost ten thousand men and women, mostly scientists and their families. And he led, for all his sins against them.

Still, even after all these years, he didn't regret his choices. He didn't regret the decision to destroy their new weapons to prevent the destruction of Earth and of countless other worlds. Still, looking around at the remnants of their once peaceful and advanced civilization, he couldn't help but feel a profound, crushing guilt. He'd brought this down upon his people. Was he therefore not a traitor?

Making their way through the decaying subterranean infrastructure towards the ruins of the capital, the members of Narim's team left him to his thoughts. They were used to his moods and knew better than to try and cheer him up; a wholly useless gesture. He hadn't smiled in years.

Exiting into the shattered remnants of a plaza, one in which children had used to laugh and play, the group of four stalked their way through the debris, staying close to the ground and using their phase shifting devices, technology that was precious and completely irreplaceable, to bypass blocked roads, they steadily made their way closer to the enemy landing site.

The Al'kesh had landed in what had once been the central governmental plaza and so the four Tollan made their way into one of the broken down skyscrapers that surrounded what had once been the center of Tollan society.

It didn't take them long to realize that, whoever these people were, they sure as hell weren't Goa'uld or Jaffa. Their equipment was completely different and even the Al'kesh looked heavily modified. New, unknown weapons dotted its surface and its armor was painted a dark grey but still shimmered in the late evening sunlight. They'd brought along a Stargate too, something that, should they be able to subdue these people could prove to be an invaluable tool.

Taking a pair of oculars from his equipment pack, Narim zoomed in on the group, hoping to get a better look. Their armor was curious, far more functional than anything he'd ever seen. A flash of color caught his eye and he involuntarily gasped. Painted on the upper arm of the aliens was a familiar flag, seven red and six white stripes with a small blue patch of stars in the top, left corner. He'd seen it enough.

"Narim, what is it?" asked his second, a young woman named Jessic.

"These people, they come from Earth," he replied, a bit shell shocked. He'd never thought they would come, nor would they have the ability. "We have to make contact."

"Hold on," she replied. "We don't know anything about why they're here. I heard about what happened during our first contact with that planet. Didn't they try to lock you and the rest of Omoc's team up?"

"That was years ago. After that point, we had good relations with them. Besides, what other choice do we have? They'll find us anyway."

His point was proven by the appearance of a small, floating machine, hovering just outside the shattered window they'd been looking out of. It was a curious device, clearly armed and painted the same dark grey as the Al'kesh but with no visible means of propulsion. They could hear the shouts of the men below as they approached.

"Looks like we don't have a choice," replied Jessic, reaching for her small, triangular side arm and taking aim at the small machine, ready to blast it to pieces should it do anything threatening. They could hear the footfalls of the incoming soldiers vibrating through the building's tortured superstructure; one of the tallest still standing.

Turning to the room's entrance, Narim was just in time to see a half dozen of the Earthers burst in, weapons at the ready.

"Hold your fire," yelled what was obviously their leader. Narim could make out an image of a small, silver bird painted on the collar of his armor, a symbol he recognized as meaning he held the same rank as Jack O'Neill, a 'colonel' if memory served him. He also recognized the symbol of the SGC just below the flag, two vertical lines representing the number eleven in Earth's language. "I'm Colonel Martin Edwards of SG-11. We mean you no harm."

"Narim, leader of what's left of the Tollan people," he replied, bitterness creeping into his voice. "We were not expecting you."

"Well a lot's changed in the past few years. We were here to conduct an initial survey and to look for survivors."

That brought the four up short. Survey, of what? Narim had a creeping suspicion. "You hoped to recover our technology?"

"Among other things. Tollana falls under the Earth/System Lords treaty as one of our protectorates. Obviously, we didn't want the Goa'uld to have your tech but…"

"But you hoped to exploit it," replied Jessic in a hostile tone.

Narim wasn't as certain. Oh sure, Earth had made no attempts at hiding their interest in Tollan technology in the past and of the powers in the galaxy, they were probably the least likely to abuse it. Still, what was this about a 'protectorate'?

"I am not familiar with the treaty you refer to," he prompted.

"The Earth/Goa'uld treaty was signed between the United States of America, on behalf of Earth as a whole and the System Lords on February 25, 2004 or about four and a half months ago after Anubis' attack on Earth was successfully repulsed and Anubis himself was killed. I guess the fact that we not only stopped a force of thirty Ha'tak and a hundred Al'kesh but also managed to capture eight of those big suckers scared the living crap out of the snakeheads. The treaty designated all territory within a one hundred light year sphere of the Sol system as well as all territory within a five light year sphere around twenty two planetary systems, termed 'protectorates' as being under Earth's direct protection. One of those systems was Tollana's. Any violation of the treaty amounts to an act of war to be prosecuted at our leisure."

"So it is similar to the Asgard's protected planets treaty then?" asked Narim.

"Yes but without the restrictions. Unlike the Asgard, who have been bluffing for years and therefore were forced to make concessions, the System Lords need us to fight Ba'al and so we can dictate the terms we wanted. And when we finally take care of Ba'al, we'll have the forces to enforce the treaty at the point of a gun if necessary."

"I see," replied Narim. How far they'd fallen; reduced to being little more than refugees under the protection of others. "What will happen to us then?"

"I don't really know, to tell the truth. We were just supposed to look for survivors and then report in if we find any," said the colonel. "I think we'll need to bring in someone more qualified to answer that."

That made Narim smile, shocking his companions. "Yes, I'm looking forward to seeing SG-1 again."

* * *

Exiting the gate, Sam was appalled by the destruction around her. Unconsciously, she'd always held Tollana up as an example; the kind of world that she wanted to help Earth become someday. And here was that example in ruins around her.

Granted, it wasn't only the sheer desolation that surrounded them that was responsible for her current mood. Word had finally come down from the brass just an hour ago; SG-1 was officially being disbanded. While she didn't like it, Sam could see the logic. The Erebus invasion, prompted by their 'capture', had proven that the members of SG-1 had simply become too high profile to let waltz around the galaxy as they'd been doing.

Sam was going to be taking over command of the Stargate Alliance's R&D efforts, run out of Area-51. Daniel would be heading up the SGC's archeological division for the next few months before heading out to Atlantis full-time. And Teal'c would be serving as a direct liaison between Earth and the Jaffa Rebellion. Sam smiled at that. She was glad he was taking some time for himself, to spend with his son and his continuing 'courtship' of Ishta.

"Something amuses you ColonelCarter," asked the Jaffa in question.

"No, nothing, just glad you're getting out more Teal'c. How's things going with Rya'c and your, um… friend, Ishta?"

"I find that I have not experienced such strong emotions since I first met Drey'auc," he replied, a smile crossing his features as the truly pathetic attempt at small-talk Sam was undertaking. "As for Rya'c, we have been, as you would say, 'catching up for lost time'."

"That's good," replied their third, Daniel. "You two have been apart for a long time."

"Yes, although I believe he is falling in love. I cannot be sure, but the signs are there."

"Well he is a teenager Teal'c," snorted Sam. One didn't get the opportunity to tease the taciturn Jaffa often. "Have you had the conversation with him yet?"

"Of what conversation do you speak…," began the Jaffa before his eyes widened, just a bit. "I do not wish to speak of this anymore." Sam and Daniel burst out laughing at the hesitation that had practically drowned that last sentence.

Their laughter faded away as their location once again took precedence. Approaching what had once been the Hostilia, the building where the Tollan Curia had been headquartered, Sam thought back to that day two and a half years earlier. SG-1 had stood on these very steps at Omoc's funeral, paying their respects to the old man. He hadn't exactly been a friend but he was someone that would look you in the eye and say what he believed, regardless of politics and expediency. And that had to be respected.

Now that monument, a simple, granite brazier with a holographic flame was lying in a dozen pieces; a support beam having crushed it during the orbital bombardment. The building itself was barely standing; the three-story tall, square structure had sustained multiple direct strikes during the attack and fire had gutted what remained. The inner courtyard was littered with debris, bodies and glassy impact craters, the result of plasma bombardment. The finely manicured grass and shrubbery had been scorched down to the bedrock. Nothing grew here anymore and likely wouldn't for hundreds of years.

Approaching the landed Al'kesh, one of the dozen or so captured on Erebus and refitted into a long range scout, Sam smiled. "Narim."

"Samantha. It is good to see you again," he replied, hugging the woman. "Likewise Doctor Jackson, Teal'c. Is Colonel O'Neill not with you anymore?"

"No, he was promoted to head the SGC when General Hammond left to take command of spaceborne operations in Washington DC, our capitol. And this is SG-1's last mission as we're being disbanded."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he replied.

Sam just shook her head at that and smiled a sad smile. Here he was, standing amongst the ruins of his entire civilization and he was apologizing to her. "It's not the big a deal. Besides, we're here for you."

"Yes, if you'll follow me, I'll lead you to the underground shelter."

The assembled group turned and headed south. Fifteen minutes later they came to the heavy blast door that SG-11 had discovered hours earlier. Narim waved his hand over a rock and the holographic facade disguising a control panel disappeared. Entered the necessary commands, the large door swung inwards revealing a heavily fortified guard post, manned by nearly two dozen men and women, all armed to the teeth.

"I was unaware that you had facilities like this," commented Teal'c in an approving tone.

"Generally we don't. However after Zipacna's attack, it was deemed important to develop a facility like your SGC for the military defense of our nation. Unfortunately it was of little help against Tanith," he replied sadly. "Still, it managed to save nearly ten thousand lives that would've otherwise been lost along with much of our knowledge."

"So you backed up your data on servers here?" asked Carter, practically drooling at the thought. The Tollan had technology that even the Asgard hadn't cracked yet.

"Yes, much of our central data network was preserved here including a recent copy of the Tollan Ministry of Science's central database along with much of our cultural data."

The group entered a conference room that had clearly been altered to serve as the central meeting place of the Tollan's remaining leaders. Taking his seat, Narim began. "I am under the impression that you've come here to discuss our future."

"Yes," began Sam, a bit uncomfortable in her role. "Before we begin however let me make something clear. We're not here to rob you or force your people into something they don't want. I'll also say that yes, we are very, very interested in your technology and scientific knowledge. But again, while it would be useful, we're not so desperate as to take it from you by force."

That surprised Narim and the other two council members, Vasic, and Ovar. "May I ask why? Not that I'm complaining but your people have made no secret of your interest in our knowledge."

"We've recently acquired a significant amount of advanced technology, much of which is comparable or superior to your own," replied Sam with a shrug. "Fusion and neutrino-ion reactors, antimatter thrusters, intergalactic hyperdrives, advanced particle and kinetic weaponry, shielding and armor technologies and even the ability to create sentient artificial intelligences. Simply put, while your knowledge would certainly be useful, especially your understanding of phase shifting, Stargate and anti-particle physics, it's not exactly deemed central to our survival anymore in the way it was a few years ago."

That shocked Narim. Sarita still held a powerful hold over the Tollan psyche and the thought of the level of technology that Earth now possessed was more than a little frightening to him. A single quark/anti-quark reactor had doomed the Saritans to their extinction and destroyed the original Tollan homeworld a hundred years earlier. Now here was a planet only slightly more advanced than the Saritans had been using technology that was centuries beyond them. And worse, they were one of the most expansionistic, warlike human worlds that the Tollan had ever encountered; their understanding of combat honed over ten millennia of near constant bloodshed.

"Where?" whispered Vasic. "Where did you acquire such advancements?"

"Some of it's Asgard technology that they've chosen to share with us. Some we captured from the Goa'uld and improved upon. Most of the rest came from a vessel called the Normandy, which is actually an Earth vessel from both the future and from an alternate reality. Most of their technology is based upon a distant interpretation of the technology of a race known in this reality as the Furlings. And of course, we now control the Alteran city of Atlantis and a large Furling space station called the Citadel."

That brought the Tollan up short. If Narim had understood correctly, Earth now possessed most if not all of the technologies of three of the four 'great races'. The Tollan had long known about the alliance and its members and had enjoyed positive, if minimalistic relations with both the Asgard and the Nox. As for both the Alterans, or as most of the galaxy called them, the Ancients, and the Furlings, most Tollan scholars believed they'd both gone extinct millions of years ago.

"I see," Narim continued after a moment of silence.

Sam jumped in. "Look, I know you're afraid we'd destroy ourselves. But the simple fact is that we've had that ability for decades now." That surprised the Tollan council members. "What? You think we need alien technology to destroy our world? For almost four decades we've had enough nuclear weaponry to level Earth down to the bedrock and set the atmosphere on fire. And that was before the first piece of Goa'uld tech was brought back through the Stargate."

"But your world isn't united. You still fight amongst yourselves. How can we entrust our knowledge to people who kill their own?" demanded Ovar, finally saying what the words the Tollan had been dancing around since they had first encountered Earth.

"I can't say we'll ever be united," said Daniel. "Earth is a world of many cultures and differing opinions on religion, race, gender and countless others. Unlike most of the human worlds in this galaxy, including your own, we didn't start off as a small group of slaves that eventually threw off the Goa'uld. We started as dozens of tribes, spread across the globe. After the Goa'uld left we were still spread out without any means of communication with each other. What's more, Earth is perhaps the most heavily populated world in the Goa'uld sphere if not the whole galaxy, numbering nearly six and a half billion."

"So you're just making my point for me," said Ovar, crossing his arms.

"That said we have made an effort lately," continued the archeologist, ignoring the jab. "We're not here on behalf of the United States of America, one nation among many, but on behalf of the Stargate Alliance, a group of twenty-four nations that have come together to speak on behalf of Earth as a whole. Does that account for all of Earth? No, the nations represented only account for parts of four of Earth's seven continents and less than half of the planet's population. But for the first time, they are working together in common cause, not competing against each other for influence and power."

"Still, the possibility exists that you will destroy yourselves," concluded Narim.

"As did the possibility for your race," replied Sam succinctly. "As does the possibility for every race that reaches the atomic age. That Earth should be held to such a different standard from the rest of the galaxy is both arrogant presumption and unrealistic. The best I can promise is that we are all too aware of the consequences of misuse of the technologies we are employing and the responsibilities that go along with that power. We won't become the Goa'uld, conquerors of all we see. But we won't stand back and let anyone push us around either. Anyone who tells you differently is either an idiot or a liar. And believe me, after what happened to Erebus, the Goa'uld are all too aware of that last little fact."

That sent a shiver down all three Tollan's spines. "To what are you referring?" asked Ovar.

"Approximately two months ago, Ba'al appeared in the SGC's gate room and claimed to have captured the three of us," began Carter, gesturing to her companions. "The response was the invasion and eventual destruction of Erebus. Ba'al lost almost thirty-six thousand Jaffa, two thousand Kull Warriors, two Ha'tak and nearly sixty percent of his industrial base in that action; one that lasted only a few days. Today Erebus is little more than an asteroid field."

"YOU DESTROYED A PLANET?" exclaimed Vasic, a look of horror crossing his face.

"Only after we picked it clean of anything of value and evacuated all surviving personnel including the nearly twelve thousand slaves he had working there," replied Daniel with a shrug. Apparently Jack had been wearing off on him a little more than he thought, both of them. "I'll admit it was an extreme response. But the Goa'uld are now aware of just how far we'll go to defend ourselves and our charges. Casualties are a part of any war. And make no mistake; from the moment Ra fired on that first team that went through the Stargate ten years ago, Earth and the Goa'uld were at war. But unlike them, we have no intentions of killing civilians or committing genocide."

"So what, you'll just let the Goa'uld race continue on?" asked Ovar with a snort of derision.

"No, we'll hunt them down to the last," replied Jackson, his voice containing an intensity, hatred and disdain that was unsurprising to those who knew him. He'd lost a lot to the snakes. "Those that surrender will be removed from their hosts and if they survive the procedure, they'll be returned to the original Goa'uld homeworld. Said world will be monitored from orbit and all traces of advanced technology will be removed, including the Stargate. Maybe by the time they are ready to reach for the stars again, they'll have learned some manners."

Narim was surprised by that. It was far more compassionate than he had expected of Earth in general and SG-1 in particular. What was more, it was far more forgiving than even the Tollan would be. "Well regardless of your future plans, I'm more interested in what you're offering the Tollan people."

"Yes, back on topic," agreed Daniel, his entire frame seeming to deflate; the mild mannered scientist replacing the warrior in the blink of an eye. "The United States is offering the Tollan survivors refugee status with the goal of allowing your people accelerated naturalization and citizenship. Under our laws, you would be considered American citizens with all the rights, responsibilities and freedoms of any other member of our nation. Also keep in mind that the United States is not the only nation offering this to you. Canada, Great Britain, Germany, Japan and Australia are also making similar offers."

"And what would that mean for our people in practical terms," asked Ovar.

"Essentially, you would be able to make a new life for yourselves. We're offering significant economic assistance in helping you settle on Earth including a large amount of 'starting-off' money and tax breaks. If you so choose, you could find a cabin in the mountains and live out the rest of your life in solitude councilor. While we'd be disappointed, we wouldn't stop you. Obviously, we'd like to see most of your people go into teaching or research and development but again, it's completely up to each and every one of you, with the obvious exception of children who are still the responsibility of their parents."

"And what of Tollana," asked Narim, deep in thought.

"We're not about to let your planet rot," replied Sam. "Not only does that pose a significant problem in terms of security, as we don't currently have the forces to garrison a simple graveyard without cause, but after the events leading up to your civilization's demise was made known to the general populous, there was considerable public pressure to 'lay your world to rest' as it were as a sign of respect. As such, Tollana, should you allow it, will become a major project, not just recovering working technology and resources but also recovering the bodies of your people and giving them a proper burial. It's the least we can do."

'Yet another surprise,' thought Narim. Recovering the Tollan dead would be an undertaking or immense proportions, never mind identifying and burying them all. Earth was really making an effort to bring them over to their side. But there was another basic fact that neither he nor his two fellow council members could deny. 'We don't have anywhere else to go. Our society is gone, our people are dead and we cannot hope to survive on this planet for much longer. We're running out of food, our shelter is beginning to require maintenance that we cannot provide and our children are growing up without seeing the sun. They're offering us a way out of this nightmare. Can I, can we possibly refuse?'

"Regardless, you don't have to make your decision right away," continued Carter. "We're already arranging for humanitarian relief to be delivered by the end of the day. But, and this is my own personal opinion, your people deserve more than a life lived out in a hole in the ground."

Narim certainly agreed. He may have been a traitor to his people. He may have brought the apocalypse down upon them. But he'd be damned to the hells that his ancestors had believed in if he continued their suffering.

"I'll see what my people want," he replied diplomatically. "But I doubt they'll refuse your offer."

"That's all we can ask," replied the blonde colonel. Suddenly, the guilt that had haunted her for the past two and a half years didn't seem as crushing as it had been yesterday.


	13. Chapter Ten The Truth

**Chapter Ten – The Truth**

_SSV Normandy SR2_

_Core Exclusion Zone, Milky Way Galaxy_

_August 03, 2004_

The familiar shifting light of a mass relay's conduit faded. Glancing at his instruments, Joker had only a few seconds to shout out, "SHIT!"

The destroyer heaved to port, the stress of the maneuver causing the spaceframe to groan in protest and throwing crewmembers into walls and consoles across the ship. However, despite the extremity of the turn, the starboard outer engine nacelle still managed to clip the large, bluish tentacle-like structure, scraping copious amounts of paint off the dense armor.

"JOKER! What the fuck was that," demanded Shepard a few moments later, marching pissed onto the bridge.

"Sorry commander," replied the pilot, actually frightened by his CO's visage. These days she seemed to careen from depression to anger at unpredictable intervals. In many ways, it was like having a slightly scarier version of Jack aboard, and having Jack aboard was terrifying enough. "But I didn't want to hit that," he continued, pointing out the window.

Shepard's retort died stillborn. Hanging a few dozen kilometers beyond the nose of the Normandy was the shattered form of a familiar ship, one that sent a shiver of terror down her spine. "A Reaper…," she breathed.

"How is this possible," asked Jacob, his eyes wide in fear. "The Citadel's AI said that they couldn't pass through the relay into this galaxy."

"Well his data is about three and a half million years outa date," replied Jack, having come up to rip into the little pilot for his stunt.

"That is not all," added EDI, her blue avatar materializing a moment later. "I have detected three distinct contacts within fifty thousand kilometers of our position. One is the Reaper, which I can confirm is fortunately inoperative. The second is a virtual duplicate of the mass relay that sent us to this galaxy. The third is more difficult to determine. We will need to move closer to make a positive identification."

"You heard her Joker," said Shepard, still gazing at the horrid image that frequently haunted her nightmares these days. Not that she had anything other than nightmares anymore.

The Reaper disappeared from view, replaced moments later by an unfamiliar ship. The vessel was clearly damaged, its long, slender shape covered in carbon scoring and hull breaches; surrounded by melted debris, long since cooled. A long, pod like structure was attached to its starboard side; dozens of sensor booms jutting from its front. At the rear of the vessel was its sublight engines; two long rows of ion thrusters housed in protrusions that extended out to both sides. Overall, it looked like something Earth in this reality could've constructed before they gained the kind of advanced armor technology that the Normandy used.

"I have identified the vessel's class," reported EDI after a long moment. "It is an early generation Lantean Aurora class battleship. Markings identify it as the Olympus and according to data sent to Earth from Atlantis, the vessel went missing approximately eleven thousand years ago or roughly nine hundred years before the Lantean's war with the Wraith began. No further information is available."

"Looks like it ran straight into that Reaper and paid the price," commented Garrus. "The damage on the Olympus looks similar to the damage Sovereign caused during the attack on the Citadel back home."

"So it went up against a Reaper and didn't lose huh?" commented Grunt. "Not bad. Hard to believe humans could've built her."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" demanded Joker indignantly, forgetting who he was talking to for the moment. "We're pretty good at ship design. Hell, the Destiny Ascension would be intergalactic space dust if it wasn't for human vessels."

"That's not saying much," snorted the Krogan, turning around and walking away.

"Getting back on topic, we need to find out what happened here," said Jacob. "Commander, what should we do first? Investigate the Olympus, the relay or the Reaper?"

"I don't care," she replied testily. "Pick one."

Jacob sighed at that. She was getting more and more unstable with each passing day. Honestly, if it wasn't for her terrifying biotic abilities, lightning quick reflexes and almost inhuman strength, he would've already knocked her out and dragged her ass down to see Chakwas. But he didn't have a death wish.

"Fine, Garrus, Tali; you're with me. We'll start with the Olympus. Commander… commander? Where the hell did she go?"

"Probably scuttled back to her quarters," sneered Jack before she too headed for the elevator and her little hole on the engineering deck.

"Though I don't like what she said, you have to admit she has a point," commented Joker after a moment of awkward silence. "Shepard is getting worse every day."

"Yeah," agreed Taylor with a sigh. "The only thing keeping Jack and Grunt in line was Shepard. I'm surprised nothing's happened with those two. But it's only a matter of time."

"I'll speak with her after we get back," said Garrus, drawing gazes of almost reverent shock from the remaining crewmembers. "Look I don't have a death wish any more than the rest of you. But I've known her for a long time and I know what she's going through; loosing so many people."

"Well just make sure you stay away from anything sharp," snarked Joker, earning a glare from the scarred Turian. "What?"

"Let's just get this over with," sighed Jacob. 'Seriously, the Illusive Man doesn't pay me enough to deal with this crap'.

* * *

_Lantean Defense Force Battleship, LDV Olympus_

The three figures materialized in what had been the bridge. Jacob had to admit, the new transporters that had been installed during the Normandy's retrofit were something else. Cerberus had tried for years to develop matter teleportation and now here was that tech, practically dropped in their laps.

"Fan out," ordered the Cerberus agent, assessing their location with the practiced eye of a soldier. He'd seen pictures of Atlantis and he had to admit, despite the exterior, the Olympus' internal architecture was remarkably similar to the Lost City's. "Anything?"

"I believe I have found an active terminal," replied Tali from across the bridge. "Amazing that it would still be functional after so long."

"I guess the Protheans weren't the only ones who could build to last," commented Garrus with a shrug.

Tali tapped a few commands into the glass-like surface and the console lit up, the strange, Latin-like symbols of the Alteran's language scrolling down the screens. "I believe this to be the communications station. I may be able to access the ship's logs." More entries followed, Tali linking her omni-tool to the alien systems. A moment later the alien symbols were replaced with the more familiar symbols of modern English, the system architecture far more comprehensible to the three.

A buzz of static sounded over the comm before it was replaced with a male voice, an accompanying video appearing on the display. "Ship's log, day 284 of cycle 13,849,032. It is hard to believe that we are the first of our race to set foot in this galaxy in almost a million years. More so that we have returned to the place from which the great plague that forced us from our home was spread. I am not sure what the council believes we will find. Certainly I hope they are not foolish enough to organize another expedition to that other reality. Then again they are politicians. Since when has their kind ever thought through the consequences of their decisions? End log."

"Ship's log, day 285 of cycle 13,849,032. We will arrive at the edge of the Avalon galaxy's core singularity in a few minutes. What awaits us I can only guess. Let us hope that it is not an ambush. The Olympus is a powerful ship but even she is not invulnerable. End log."

"Ship's log, day 285 of cycle 13,849,032; supplemental. We have arrived at our targeted location and have found the Furling gravity catapult intact. It is difficult to believe that a structure could have remained intact for so long in such an unforgiving environment. Truly the Furlings, with their mastery of gravity technologies could achieve feats that even we cannot hope to match. We have begun to investigate the device however I believe it will take us… Could you repeat that? Oh sh…," the log dissolved into static.

"I have recovered one more log after that last one," said Tali, breaking the group's trance. "It is heavily degraded so don't expect a miracle."

Unlike the previous entries, the image displayed on the screen was grainy and covered in static; dissolving into snow at random intervals. "Ship's log, day… I cannot remember the date and the ship's chronometer is offline. The Olympus has been heavily damaged and most of my crew is dead. We had just begun to investigate the Furling gravity catapult when another vessel emerged from the device. I'd never seen something like it before; like a great, clenched hand surrounded by discharges of red lightning."

"We tried to initiate first contact protocols but we did not even get so much as an initial hail transmitted before they opened fire. Our armor barely held against what our sensors told us was a stream of relativistic molten ceramic. We managed to get our shields up and returned fire but the enemy vessel had some sort of advanced shielding system that could block our plasma drones. We fired everything we had at the attacker; drones, plasma and ion cannons, even our spinal neutron batteries. Eventually it fell to the fourth salvo from the neutron cannons but only after we'd all but exhausted our drone supply and melted our plasma cannons from overuse. Whoever finds this be they Lantean or someone else I beseech you. Do not travel through the catapult. Do not bring the enemy back with you."

"Our life support is failing and I do not have much longer. This is Captain Telemachus Invictus of the Olympus, signing off," the transmission dissolved into static.

Jacob stared at the screen for a moment longer.

"Well shit."

* * *

_Deck One, SSV Normandy_

Standing outside Shepard's quarters, Garrus was already beginning to regret volunteering for this particular job. He was a man who would solemnly, nay joyously start a one man war against three of the largest, most violent gangs on Omega just because he was fed up with C-Sec's regulations and bureaucratic bullshit. He was a man who many considered worthy of joining the elite ranks of the Spectres. Yet the thought of barging into the quarters of his brooding commander left him shaking like a three year-old.

'And I'm the brave one,' he snorted to himself. 'The rest of the crew doesn't even have the courage to press the deck one button on the elevator anymore.'

Taking a deep breath Garrus tapped the door chime and waited… and waited. And waited some more.

"EDI, can you confirm that Shepard is in her quarters," asked the Turian over the comm.

"Commander Shepard is currently on deck one," replied the AI. "Since there is only one room on this deck…"

"Thank you EDI," replied the Turian with a sigh. If there was one thing about EDI it was that she could be incredibly sarcastic without trying. Sometimes he thought she did it on purpose just to screw with him. "Since she isn't answering the door, could you override the lockout and let me in?"

"Cerberus protocol classifies that as a violation of privacy Mr. Vakarian."

"Ok, a few things you need to remember EDI. One: this is Commander Shepard's vessel, not Cerberus'. Two: we are in another reality here. And most importantly: WE AREN'T GETTING HOME IF OUR LEADER IS MOPING AROUND HER QUARTERS ALL DAY," yelled the irate weapons specialist.

A few moments passed in which Garrus was wondering if provoking the person that could quite literally take his breath away was a good idea. So he was relieved when the door slid open before him, revealing the darkened quarters. "Good luck Mr. Vakarian."

"I'll take all I can get," he replied before entering. Already he could tell things were getting pretty bad for his friend. In the time he had known her, Garrus had become quite familiar with Jade's personality quirks. She tended to laugh in the face of danger; even when said danger was pointing a gun at her and threatening all sorts of horrible, unspecified revenge against her and the galaxy in general. She was brave, fearless, and had the kind of military genius that was quite literally once in a generation. And above all of that the one thing that stood out most of all to those who knew her: she was a complete and utter neat freak.

So the papers, tablets and coffee cups scattered haphazardly across her desk, the clothing and garbage that littered the floor and the scum and dead fish that filled the panoramic fish tanks on the side of the room did not bode well for her current mental state.

Advancing further in, Garrus could just make out the form of his friend lying huddled under the sheets of her queen sized bed. Approaching quietly and slowly so as to not startle her and more importantly, to not trigger that irritating Prothean artifact that had taken to hovering over her coffee table, Garrus made his way to the side of the bed.

"Shepard time to wake up."

Grumbling was his response.

"Shepard, you need to get up."

"Garrus, leave me alone. I don't want to get up."

"Well I'm not leaving until you do."

"Then you're not leaving."

Garrus was beginning to get fed up with her intransigence. "You know what? You're not the only one to loose people Shepard. So stop moping around and get up," he continued, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Exactly the wrong thing to do.

"I said leave me alone!" replied the scarred woman, her body glowing blue. A momentary feeling of weightlessness was the only warning the Turian got before he was flung across the room, slamming hard into and shattering the display case.

"Oh god, Garrus," exclaimed the woman, as if surprised at her own actions. "I… I…," she began before her words dissolved into incoherent noise, her body convulsing uncontrollably just before she descended into unconsciousness.

* * *

_Normandy Medical Bay_

_Three Days Later_

As the darkness faded, the first thing Jade noticed was that, for the first time in months, she didn't feel like crap.

"Uh, what happened?" she asked, opening her eyes and wincing at the brightness.

"Welcome back to the land of the living commander," replied the voice of Doctor Carolyn Chakwas. "I was becoming worried."

"I, wait. Oh god, Garrus!"

"He suffered a mild concussion and sprained his wrist. He's fine. Personally, I'm far more concerned about you."

"Well whatever you did, I haven't felt this good in a long time. What happened to me?"

"You were being poisoned commander," replied the older woman.

"WHAT? By who?"

"Your own body in a manner of speaking. It was caused by your implants."

That stopped Shepard cold. While she had undergone several procedures since her 'resurrection' to improve her cybernetics, those were all minor outpatient procedures and under the care of the woman sitting in front of her. "Son of a bitch. I knew I couldn't trust that bastard!"

"If you're referring to the Illusive Man, you're more right that you know," said Jacob as he entered the room, escorted by the rest of her team, minus Grunt, Garrus and Joker. "How are you doing commander?"

"Pissed, really pissed. So what did that fake eyed fuck do to me?"

"It has to do with Project Lazarus," began the doctor. "What do you remember being told about it?"

"Not much really," replied Shepard with a shrug. "Just that its goal was to bring me back as intact as possible. Why, was that another lie?"

"Not entirely," said Chakwas, "but it was an incomplete explanation. You see, when I brought you in and conducted an intensive scan of your body, I found numerous anomalies that were only apparent because I was looking for them specifically. When I compared them to your medical records from the original Normandy, the changes became glaringly apparent."

"What changes? What did they do to me?"

"It appears that Cerberus decided to roll several projects into one when they rebuilt you. Tell me commander, has it not occurred to you that you were not a biotic before your death."

That brought her up short. "I just thought it was a minor improvement. I had the latent potential before but it was just a little too weak to justify the costs of admitting me to the Alliance's biotics program."

"Quite true commander," continued the doctor. "In fact, even that latent ability makes you quite rare among humans. Biotics have always been an area where humanity has been at a disadvantage."

Shepard could see where this was going. "And Cerberus' goal is to advance humanity."

"Correct. You see, when it comes to biotics, humans have two major problems. The first is that compared to the Asari, Krogan or even the Turians, biotic potential is very rare and almost always the result of accidental exposure to eezo in utero. Even then, the majority of those exposed do not become latent biotics and instead develop various forms of cancer."

"Yeah, it has to do with the way humanity evolved," interrupted Jacob. "Unlike planets like Thessia, Palaven or Tuchanka, Earth has virtually no eezo in the environment. Most theories as to why that is involve the configuration of the Sol system. Because there are so many gas giants compared to most systems, the chances of a large asteroid actually surviving passage through the system to impact Earth are astronomical."

"So the Chicxulub asteroid was a fluke," concluded Jack, surprising everyone. "What? I'm not so much of a freak that I don't know about the extinction of the dinosaurs."

"Yes, well anyway," continued Jacob after a moment, clearing his throat. "Because such impacts are so rare compared to most other species' homeworlds, no element zero was introduced into Earth's ecosystem. As humans evolved we didn't develop a tolerance to element zero and therefore our bodies reject it as a contaminant or develop various problems in response."

"So it is similar to the reason the Quarian immune system evolved to be so weak," concluded Tali.

"Yes, quite similar in fact," replied the doctor. "Your planet didn't have insects. We didn't have eezo. The result in both cases was a glaring deficiency as we evolved. Anyway, because of this lack, humans that can successfully integrate such an exotic substance into their systems without complications are extremely rare. And then on top of that, most end up like the commander did: with latent potential too weak for practical application. To an extent we've managed to increase the number of people capable of using biotics through advanced cybernetics but there comes a point where technology cannot compensate for the simple lack of potential."

"Well this isn't that much of a surprise," said Shepard. "We know that Cerberus was looking into ways of increasing biotic strength through torture."

"You got that right," muttered Jack darkly.

"It stands to reason that they would be looking into other ways of improving human biotic potential as well."

"It goes far beyond that commander," continued Chakwas. "Cerberus wasn't just looking for a way of increasing latent potential in those who already had eezo in their systems. They were looking into a way of artificially introducing it into someone who had zero biotic potential to begin with. EDI provided me with the records of dozens of projects involving biotics. Pragia was only one of those."

"Wait, are you saying that the Illusive Man was fully aware of what was happening to me?" demanded Jack.

"As far as I can tell yes," replied the doctor.

"Son of a bitch lied to us!"

"Are you really that surprised Jack?" asked Shepard. "Classic case of covering ones' ass; denying all knowledge of the project. So what, am I the result of knowledge gained from Jack's torture?"

"Yes," replied the doctor, choosing her words carefully so as to not set off their resident mass murderer, "hers and dozens of others. Over thirty years of experimentation was rolled into your modifications."

"I do not understand," interjected Thane. "As I comprehend it, the goal of Cerberus' Lazarus project was to bring Shepard back as she was."

"More specifically, the goal was to bring back the commander's mind," replied Jacob. "Personality, memories, instincts and most importantly, at least to Cerberus, the Prothean data cache that was imprinted into her subconscious. I got the impression that keeping the rest of the commander's body in mint condition was less important."

"So they made me into a super-biotic?" began Shepard. "I'm not really complaining mind you. But you said I was being poisoned doctor. Care to elaborate?"

"That has to do with your implants. According to the files, you were to receive the newest L6x implants, a whole generation beyond Jack's. The term bleeding edge doesn't even begin to describe them. But when I examined you it became clear that, whatever they implanted in your body, they are not conventional cybernetics, at least not when it comes to your biotics. They aren't even cybernetics at all."

"What else could they be?"

"Cyber-organics; part computer chip, part genetically tailored organism. Only two races possess that kind of technology, at least in our reality."

Shepard's eyes widened at that. "The Reapers and the Collectors."

"Yes, the technology closely resembles the Collector technology that was used by Okeer to create Grunt. But at the same time, it was most definitely made by human hands."

"Now wait a minute," began Jacob. "Cerberus was at war with the Collectors. No way would they condone using their tech on a project as important as Shepard. Miranda sure as hell wouldn't allow it."

"Cerberus bitch would do whatever she thought was necessary," sneered Jack.

"And you have to consider that Cerberus wasn't sure it WAS the Collectors until after the Freedom's Progress mission," continued Shepard. "But I agree with Jacob. Given the costs of the Lazarus project, they wouldn't take the chance of using experimental tech on me. Every indication was that the procedures involved in the Lazarus Project were, while extreme and ethically dubious, well researched and developed. Nothing really experimental, at least not on its own. Besides, I got to know Miranda pretty well. If she'd known about the Collector tech in me, she'd have told me; at least after I helped her sister. That said, for all her brilliance, Miranda was an administrator, nothing more. But there was one person that had the means, the motive and the opportunity…"

"Wilson, that son of a bitch," growled Jacob. "I never thought he would stoop that low."

"Ok who are we talking about now?" asked Tali.

"Doctor Yzak Wilson, Chief Medical Officer of the Lazarus Project. The man that betrayed and nearly killed us all," replied Jacob. "He was a real piece of work."

"Yeah, no kidding," added Shepard. "Just after I woke up, I came across his office and downloaded his private files including his journal. Entry after entry after entry of him bitching and moaning about how his genius wasn't being properly utilized. About how he wasn't paid enough and how he hated the fact that Miranda was the Illusive Man's favorite. No wonder he set all those mechs on her."

"So he decided to use Collector tech as a way of proving his worth?" asked Jacob. "Not a bad plan actually. He couldn't have accomplished those kinds of improvements to the commander's body with conventional tech so he cheated just like Okeer."

"Except he made a mistake," added Chakwas. "The thing about cyber-organics, at least the little I know of them, is that they're alive. Now this offers numerous advantages such as the ability to adapt to changing conditions within their host. But as with any organic system there is the chance that they can evolve in ways that their creators didn't intend. In the case of Commander Shepard's implants, as they've grown, they've evolved to use certain chemicals to improve the efficiency of their growth. Those chemicals are similar enough to neurotransmitters to impact her brain chemistry; neurotransmitters that have been linked to depression and emotional instability in humans."

"Wait, you said they've been growing?" asked the commander alarmed.

"Yes, they began as a series of small implants designed to look, at least to cursory scans as the L6x implants. I suspect that they were designed that way to get past any oversight. Unfortunately to achieve their full potential they needed to become far more spread out throughout your body. You may have noticed several changes over the past months as they've grown."

"Well now that you mention it your reflexes have been remarkable, especially when we were fighting that proto-Reaper," commented Jacob.

"And you are remarkably strong, even given your cybernetics," continued Tali.

"Fast regeneration. Unusual for a human. Almost Krogan with proper medical exoskeleton," added Mordin.

"Yes, all of that is consistent with what I've observed," continued Chakwas. "As your implants have grown they have begun to merge with your nervous system, your organs, your musculature and even your brain. As far as I can tell they're not actually causing any harm; that part Wilson got correct at least. Rather they seem to be enhancing and augmenting anything they come across in conjunction with your traditional cybernetics. In a way, you are not entirely human anymore commander."

"So what, I'm some sort of mutant?" demanded the Spectre.

"Not at all commander," replied Carolyn. "Regardless of what you look like on the inside, you're still Commander Jade Shepard, captain of the Normandy."

Smiling, Jade replied, "Thanks for that doc. I'm not sure I believe it but thanks." She paused for a moment before continuing. "You know, this might explain why Harbinger was so obsessed with me. After all, I'm apparently part Collector. Maybe he wanted to inhabit my body or something. Anyway, why did I have a seizure up in my quarters?"

"Ah, that has to do with your little biotic display," replied Chakwas. "Think of it as the reverse of adrenaline. When you use your biotics or when you're in combat, the residual chemicals were being burnt off. That also explains why you didn't have any problems when we were fighting the Collectors. But you haven't exactly been in combat lately. Hell you spent two weeks on a beach in Hawaii last month. Not much use for biotics there. The chemicals built up and when you used your biotics, much less such a powerful expenditure, they essentially caused your brain to short circuit. You had a seizure."

"Great, so I have to use my biotics everyday now?" groaned the commander. Not that she'd mind killing something every now and then.

"No commander," chuckled the doctor. "While you were unconscious I implanted a small device in your upper left arm," pointing at the small, rapidly fading scar. "It's a design created by the Quarians to help augment their immune systems. It will monitor the levels of harmful chemicals in your bloodstream and if necessary, synthesize and administer counteragents. I also believe that once your implants finish their growth then they will stop producing the poisons and I can remove the implant."

"Solving the problems created by one implant with another," sighed the Spectre. "How long do you think that will take?"

"Another year or so. Your implants have merged with approximately forty percent of your body so far; mostly in your chest and head."

"Well wonderful. So I'm good to go?"

"No commander. While I can fix your body you will be seeing someone when you get back to Earth. And before you object, that is an order under my authority as the Normandy's Chief Medical Officer."

"You think I need help?" exclaimed the commander, ignoring the muted laughter of her crew behind her.

"Commander, ask me who's buried in Grant's tomb. It's a harder question."

At that point Jacob nearly fell down laughing.

* * *

_Sorry everyone for the delay on updating this story. I've had this chapter mostly done for a while now but haven't had time to finish it as I've recently started working a new job. For future reference, I'll be switching between Reaper's Origin and my rewrite of The Shores of Xanadu as the mood strikes me. Needless to say that there isn't going to be a schedule for updates anytime in the future. Sorry._


	14. Chapter Eleven Into the Sea of Stars

**Chapter Eleven – Into the Sea of Stars**

_USS Nautilus BCS-304A/US-01A_

_Mars Belt, Sol System_

_August 28, 2004_

Paperwork. It had been the bane of his career. It had followed him up the chain of command and even out among the stars. If there was one thing that Colonel Steven Caldwell hated more than anything else in life it was paperwork.

Granted these days it was done on a holographic slate but the principle behind it hadn't changed. Looking down at the offending device sitting on his desk he let out a rather overdramatic sigh. Among the privacy of his office, just off the bridge he could afford the luxury of throwing a minor tantrum without losing anyone's respect.

His office, which he steadfastly refused to call a 'ready room' and which was really a sea cabin, one of the more egregious mistakes from 'that' TV series, was one of the many features to be found aboard Earth's newest weapon of war. Dwarfing the Prometheus at eight hundred and ninety five meters long, the Nautilus was a thing of beauty, a razor sharp sword ready to be plunged into anyone and anything that made the mistake of offending the peoples of humanity's homeworld.

It still amazed him at how fast it'd been built. Four months from the laying down of her keel to launch. It was one of the first major projects to be fabricated, assembled and finished with little to no human interaction in American history. Constructed at the Groom Lake Shipyards, the Nautilus was the first ship to be constructed using the truly revolutionary nano-lathe system. A combination of Systems Alliance, Asgard and good old fashioned human know-how, the system used massive versions of the minifacturing technology found within common omni-tools, transporters, mass effect fields, autonomous construction robots and some of the most sophisticated VIs ever developed to supercharge the normal construction process. Every component from her drive assemblies to the bolts that attached her armor to her hull had been formed on a molecular scale, transported into place and then welded together with lasers and nanites.

It was a process that had proceeded twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. The result was a ship more than twice the size of the original 'Daedalus' concept built in less than half the time, built to tolerances that would've been unimaginable just a year before and with absolutely no construction waste. Financially it was a boon as there was no need to pay for the millions of man hours otherwise needed. When the other three construction pits came online, they'd be able to pump out up to twelve Nautilus class battlecruisers a year, to say nothing of the smaller pits slated to construct DDS-SR2A Ptolemaeus class stealth destroyers based on the Normandy SR2, FFS-SR1A Tyco class stealth frigates based on the SR1 and C/S-25A Achilles class military freighters.

He'd had a conversation about this with Colonel Carter and it'd proven enlightening as well as disturbing. It wasn't just that the Nautilus and her sisters represented humanity extending the limits of our power beyond our world. It was the dawn of an entirely new economic order, one in which endless consumption and the constant need for more and more growth would give way to a world in which the production of 'things' was almost meaningless, an economy of ideas and innovation, much like what the Asgard currently enjoyed. For someone who'd grown up during the Cold War and who'd been taught that Capitalism was one of the greatest concepts in history, the idea was unsettling.

That said if it allowed a ship like this to be built in four months cold he could adapt. He'd spent his whole life doing just that from his time flying F-4 Phantoms against the North Vietnamese to command of a squadron of B-2 Spirits dropping bombs on Iraq and Afghanistan. He just hoped the world could do so as well.

Signing his name for the umpteenth time, he chanced a look out the 'window'. 'Heh, window. Right.' He was deep within the hull of the battlecruiser, hundreds of meters from the outer hull. The designers, knowing that the desire to look out at the stars was not only a luxury but a necessity for the mental health of the crew yet not wanting the structural vulnerability a transparent material would represent had come up with a rather unique idea. Rather than basically punching holes in the ship's armor belt, they'd installed hundreds of holographic 'screens' throughout the ship. Linked to the main sensor grid, these devices could display anything a person could want from a view of the stars to high definition sports with the touch of a button.

It was amazing what the geeks could come up with when let off the leash.

Turning back to his work, Caldwell was interrupted by the chirp of the comm system. "Bridge to Caldwell," came the voice of his XO, Major Kevin Marks.

"Go ahead."

"Sir, I've got an incoming transmission from Earth for you."

"Transfer it to my terminal."

"Yes sir, Marks out." A moment later a window with a spinning Air Force Seal appeared on his computer, the identity of the sender displayed beneath it. Tapping a key and knowing that the ship's VI was running an invasive scan of him to confirm that he really was Colonel Steven Caldwell, the image was replaced by one of the most powerful men in the entirety of the US Military Chain of Command and indeed the whole of Earth.

"General Hammond, what can I do for you sir?"

"Steven, what's the status of the Nautilus?"

"We've completed our shakedown run and are currently holding position adjacent to the Mars Belt to facilitate resupply."

"How long until you're completely restocked?"

Turning to another screen, Caldwell took note of the onboard ordinance levels, observing the numbers slowly ticked towards full. It was something else that surprised him about the ship's design.

Early on it had become apparent that the supplying the Nautilus would nearly bankrupt the Air Force. Between missiles, torpedoes, mass driver rounds, Thanix cartridges, fighter ammunition, fuel and spare parts they were looking at an annual supply cost of almost fifteen billion dollars; per ship. So rather than explode the budget, the designers had decided to cut the supply chain altogether. Each ship came equipped with its own mining drones and beams, both using modified versions of Asgard transporter technology, large scale omnigel converters and nano-lathes; all powered by the twin Neutrino-Ion Converters at the Nautilus' core. This way all she needed to restock her ordinance and/or make repairs was an asteroid belt or debris field and some time.

"We're currently at ninety two percent of capacity for missile chassis, ninety six on torpedoes, eighty nine on warheads, ninety seven on Thanix cartridges, a hundred on mass driver rounds, spare parts and fighter ordinance and eighty nine on fuel. ETA to full is about an hour and a half."

"Good. I need you at the Pentagon ASAP. Leave your ship to your XO and take a shuttle. You have a mission."

"Yes sir. Caldwell out," he said, terminating the transmission. Finishing the last of his long since cold coffee, he stood and exited the room onto the spacious bridge. A more compact design more in line with the Saratoga class mothership refits than the Normandy, whose CIC was based upon a Turian design, it was efficiently laid out. In the center stood the captain's chair, currently occupied by Marks who immediately stood.

"Sir?"

"Major, you have command until I return. Prep a Kodiak for launch. I've got a meeting to attend to at the Pentagon and should return before you complete the resupply. If I don't I want you to take the ship into Earth orbit and wait for me."

"Yes sir. Any idea what this is about?"

"No but judging by the look on General Hammond's face it can't be anything pleasant. Speaking of which… Caldwell to Novak."

The voice of the twitchy former NASA engineer filtered through the comm, "Novak here."

"Doctor, please begin a fully diagnostic on all combat related systems. I have a feeling we'll be needing them soon."

"I'll get right on it sir… hic."

"Good, Caldwell out," replied the colonel, ignoring the doctor's nervous habit. In the three weeks he'd served with her he'd come to realize that pressuring Novak was a bad idea. Had she been Air Force he would've done something about it but she was a civilian, one of many that made sure his ship functioned at peak performance. That he would be taking non-military personnel into a combat situation was something unthinkable just a few years ago but like many other things, he'd adapted; and instituted mandatory weapons training for them all.

"Same old Novak," commented Marks with a grin.

Sighing, Caldwell left the bridge without saying anything else. A short trip through the intra-ship transporter network later he arrived at the shuttlebay, empty save for the numerous forms of the ten UT-47B Kodiak Shuttlecraft and a pair of UT-53B Ursus Assault Dropships. Entering the nearest shuttle, the small craft powered up and its hatch closed.

"Destination?" queried the VI.

"Pentagon. Arlington, Virginia, United States of America, Earth," he listed. Though VIs were remarkably useful tools, he'd quickly realized that he had to be extremely specific if he wanted them to do what he wanted in a timely fashion. It reminded him of the computer from Star Trek, not that he'd ever admit, even under torture, to watching that show. The Picard jokes were bad enough, made worse by the fact that he'd actually commanded the Ha'tak 'Enterprise' for a while, something that he would never forgive Shepard for.

The small shuttle sealed its hatch and took off, the bay door opening to allow it to exit. It was completely automated and for the former pilot, a little surreal. For the entire trip he wouldn't even have to touch a single control despite the fact that he'd be traveling half way across the solar system. The inertial dampening system was good enough for him to stand the entire way allowing him to look out the large windows on either side.

The Nautilus' shuttlebay was a dedicated facility located on the rear of the vessel, beneath the large armored 'plate' that topped her sleek form. Rather than lumping the smallcraft in with the fighters, the designers had added another bay to speed up operations. It was actually one of seven hanger bays located on the massive warship along with four fighter bays, two located back to back in each 'pod' along with a pair of mostly empty drone bays attached to the undersides of the hanger pod struts.

The shuttle threaded through the surprisingly busy space around the battlecruiser. Only a few kilometers away floated several large asteroids, lazily tumbling about. Beams of light from the various transporter nodes that dotted the warship were systematically reducing several to their constituent molecules to feed the construction systems. More beams, longer and thinner emerged from deeper within the belt, the matter streams briefly connecting the small, bug-like Q/M-09A Geologist Mining Microships to the Nautilus, their nimble forms easily going where the larger ship feared to tread in search of rarer minerals. More beams seemed to emerge from deep space, connecting the ship to the distant 'Poseidon' platform in low Uranus orbit, filling the mighty warship's hungry fuel cells with Helium-3.

Within seconds he noticed the stars begin to redshift, the jump to FTL both beautiful and entrancing. The view only lasted a few second before the stars reestablished themselves, the blue pearl of Earth appearing beneath him. Glancing at the system status display he noted the shuttle exchanging authorization codes with orbital traffic control at Vandenberg AFB before it began its de-orbital burn. Continuing to stand, he observed as the plasma streamers played off the Kodiak's shield bubble. The air thickened and the craft slowed, giving way to cloud formations and then the metropolis that was Washington DC.

The shuttle had come in on a low trajectory from the south, a long, curving path over the Potomac that gave him a good view of the Capital Building, the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials, the Washington Monument and the White House before banking toward the building that, more than any other symbolized American military might.

Coming in for a final landing on one of a series of specially designed landing pads, he could see the traffic along the 395 slow to a virtual crawl, drivers eagerly watching the otherworldly craft land. Undoubtedly his arrival would feature heavily on the evening news; local, national and international. Waiting for him was a dark, undoubtedly armor plated town car that would take him to one the secure entrances. And beside it stood the man that the SGC had come to know, love and yet hope never to see: Lieutenant Colonel Paul 'Disaster' Davis.

This did not bode well.

Exiting the Kodiak, instructing the VI to handle core discharging procedures in his absence, he made his way toward the waiting officer and an unsurprisingly large marine escort. "Lieutenant Colonel Davis."

"Colonel Caldwell, welcome to the Pentagon. Good flight?"

"Short. Now care to explain why Disaster Davis is here to great me?"

Smirking at his nickname, Paul gestured to the car and waited for Caldwell to enter before following, the vehicle taking off a moment later. "It's not as bad as you think sir. Earth isn't under attack or under threat of attack but the situation is… complex. General Hammond will brief you in the situation room when we arrive along with your fellow taskforce captains."

"Taskforce?"

"The USS Saratoga, HMCS Hudson and HMS Britannia are being placed under your command for the duration of this mission. Colonels Emerson, Cote and Group Captain Smith respectively will be taking orders from you for the duration."

Caldwell let out a long, low whistle at that. Whatever they were attacking was in deep trouble. Exiting the town car deep within the Pentagon's underground parking structure, a section normally reserved for Generals and Admirals, Caldwell was quickly rushed into the Situation Room. Waiting for him were the afore mentioned officers and Generals Hammond and O'Neill.

"Colonels, you're right on time," greeted Hammond, gesturing the two to a pair of unoccupied seats. "I'll get right down to it then. We've been contacted by one of the System Lords, Kali. She'd demanding military assistance to counter an offensive launched by Ba'al against Rakana, one of her most strategically important worlds."

That stunned everyone present. Jack was the first to recover from it however. "Where the hell does she get off demanding anything from us?"

"Unfortunately that was one of the little 'stipulations' they insisted be included in the treaty," sighed the old general, a look of irritation crossing his face. "It only allows them to call upon us under a very specific set of circumstances and unfortunately this qualifies."

"So we're supposed to go in and pull their arses out of the fire?" asked Captain Smith, rolling his eyes. "Any Intel on what we might be facing?"

"Ba'al has committed almost forty of his Ha'tak to this battle, all of them Ba'al or Anubis refits," interjected Davis, displaying the relevant information on one of the holographic displays that ringed the room. "In addition he's sent almost a thousand Al'kesh and full loads of gliders too."

"And Kali?" asked Emerson.

"She's been hit hard by the war and is down to approximately thirty capital ships, mostly Sokar and Apophis refits. However Rakana is important to all the System Lords. The planet is a major source of trinium, naquadah and several rare earths that are vital to the Goa'uld war machine. She's been supplying them all for almost the entirety of the Anubis and Ba'al conflicts and if they lose this planet…"

"Game over," said Jack, his expression torn between glee and despair.

"Not quite," replied Davis, "but they'll be well on their way. As such the other System Lords have committed significant forces to the defense of Rakana. You're looking at, at least seventy Ha'tak and almost fifteen hundred Al'kesh. Still, they're outmatched in terms of firepower almost two-to-one."

"That's where we come in," commented Caldwell.

"Exactly," said Hammond, taking control of the meeting back. "Officially your orders are to provide aid to our 'allies'. Unofficially I don't think any of us will shed any tears if they end up in ruins by the end of the battle too."

"Sir, what if they fire upon us?" asked Cote.

"If you mean the System Lords," asked Hammond, receiving a nod in response, "then you are to return fire. But don't, and I can't stress this enough, initiate anything with them. You can defend yourselves but they are not our enemies, at least for now."

"We're still a bit outnumbered," commented Smith.

"That'll actually be to our advantage," replied Caldwell, drawing looks of surprise. "Think about it for a second. The Nautilus is, at least in simulations, equal to five or more Anubis refits and each Saratoga is worth at least two. Between us we have the equivalent of eleven Anubis grade Ha'tak motherships; and that doesn't include force multipliers, namely our 302s which have finally received their external heavy weapons. And we all have full load-outs of those too for a total of three hundred and eighty four."

"Still, we'll be facing a lot of enemy forces and our allies aren't exactly worth much," replied Smith.

"Your goal is to use them against each other," interjected Hammond. "Keep both sides more or less even and they'll wipe each other out. And don't feel the need to stick your necks out for Kali's forces either. They wouldn't do the same for us."

"Understood sir," said Caldwell. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as your ships complete resupply. The battle is scheduled to start in three hours so plan to arrive in about three and a half, just to let the pot boil over a bit," grinned O'Neill. As the four warship commanders got up to leave he added, "oh and guys," they turned to him, "god's speed."

"Thank you sir," said Caldwell. Considering the odds, they'd need all the help they could get.

* * *

_Peltac, Kali's Flagship_

_Rakana Orbit_

_Three Hours Later_

Kali wasn't one given to nervous displays. One of the more level headed of the System Lords, she had seen her fortunes rise and fall in the millennia she'd lived. But she had to admit, even if only to herself, that the forces leveled against her was enough to intimidate. Ba'al was making a concerted push to knock more and more of the System Lords out of the war and if she lost Rakana she would be useless to the alliance just as Camulus had become a few months earlier.

So she'd called on the Tau'ri to provide support. Originally she'd been ambivalent as to the wisdom of signing a treaty with the first world. On the one hand she had prospered greatly when they'd killed Ra and later Apophis. On the other, the combined might of the entire Goa'uld Empire hadn't been able to defeat Anubis while the people of Earth had done it in a day. It was a dangerous precedent and one that she was sure would come back to bite them in the ass someday. What was worse was that the Tau'ri were far from stupid and had every reason to want them all dead and buried and with good reason. Still if she was to survive the day then she needed their assistance, it was as simple as that.

"My queen, the enemy hails," said her first prime, Sule'ka. An unusual choice, she had chosen a female Jaffa to serve as her most powerful warrior and so far hadn't been disappointed.

"We shall answer," replied the System Lord.

The image that appeared on screen wasn't that of a Ba'al but it still angered her, "Ta'ror. My, I would've thought Ba'al would've had you put to death after your failure at Erebus."

"I was unprepared to face the forces of the Tau'ri and paid the price," replied the Jaffa, the prominent scar crossing his face as evidence of his shame. "But I don't have anything to fear from you or your pathetic forces. I will offer you one chance, as my lord Ba'al has instructed me, to surrender. You shall not receive another."

Kali scoffed at that. She knew what 'surrender' would mean. And she had no intentions of being demoted to one of that egomaniac's 'lieutenants', ruling over some backwater and listening to his gloating. "You forget you are outnumbered here."

"But not outgunned. Very well, I have received your answer. Let the battle commence." With that the transmission terminated and the swarms of Death Gliders, Al'kesh and the first waves of Ha'tak surged forward.

Looking at a nearby clock, Kali did something she had never done before in her life. She prayed that the Tau'ri would be able to deliver a miracle.

* * *

_Cloaked Tok'ra Tel'tak_

_Rakana Orbit_

_Thirty-Five Minutes Later_

They had come to witness the battle and relish the fall of yet another of the System Lords. For Anise and Thoran it was a time of great joy. For Selmak and Jacob it was something else. Yet again he would be forced to witness the mass slaughter of people too ignorant, stupid or just plain unlucky for the gain of others who couldn't care less for them. Jacob had seen too much death in his life and this mission just served to underscore that point.

The battle had been raging for more than a half hour and already the superiority of Ba'al's forces was showing. While Kali had an advantage in smaller craft and indeed was taking a heavy toll among Ta'ror's Glider and Al'kesh forces, the same could not be said for the Ha'tak. Already Kali had lost seventeen of her capital warships, having managed to destroy only six of Ba'al's, two of which were through suicidal ramming attacks.

"Curious," commented Anise, looking over the scanners. It was one of the fields the Tok'ra held technological superiority over the Goa'uld along with cloaking and to a lesser extent, hyperdrive technology.

"What is it?" asked Thoran, walking over to her and looking at the readings over her shoulder.

"I believe we have more vessels about to exit hyperspace."

"I was not informed that either Ba'al or the System Lords were willing to commit more forces to this battle," said Jacob in a confused tone.

Thoran turned to the retired general with a look of annoyance. He was among many who found the human's presumption irritating. 'It should've been Selmak asking that question,' he thought to himself. "Neither was I."

Jacob had by this point taken a seat at the helm and brought up his own sensor window, focusing visual scanners on the area the unknown vessels were most likely to emerge in. It was an area of space well outside the battle zone. 'Almost five million kilometers outside in fact,' noted the general as he analyzed the situation. Given the poor performance of Goa'uld sublight engine technology in terms of acceleration, most Ha'tak would exit at a maximum of five hundred thousand kilometers of their targets. "I do not believe the unknowns are Goa'uld reinforcements. Their positioning is all wrong."

That brought the other two Tok'ra up short. "Then who?" asked Anise.

She was answered a moment later by the blossoming of a massive hyperspace window. Four vessels emerged and the sight made Jacob smile. The three trailing vessels were clearly modified Ha'tak but the leading vessel was something else. "That is the USS Nautilus. I guess Kali called in some favors."

Thoran examined the data, what little of it there was. Their sensors were being jammed but what he could make out worried him. The energy readings the vessel was emitting were extreme, far greater than a vessel constructed by the primitives of Earth should've been able to achieve.

Yet another problem they'd have to deal with.

* * *

_USS Nautilus Launch Bay Alpha_

_F-302B Scimitar Space Superiority Fighter, Swordsman Prime_

_Commander Roselyn "Sonic" Igel, CO VFA-32, United States Navy_

Roselyn was eager to launch. This would be the second time she'd be sticking it to the snakeheads and this time it wouldn't be the one sided slaughter of Erebus. This time she'd actually have to work to survive and it was a feeling she was going to relish.

"Tas, equip custom package Omega," she commanded her fighter's VI. This was something she had cooked up herself, outside of the normal load-outs. Each pilot was given an assignment at the beginning of the battle and it was up to them to 'pick their poisons', as it were.

"Confirmed. Loading," replied the cartoon Tasmanian Devil as the robotics beneath her did their thing. She'd come a long way from the starry eyed rookie she'd been over Erebus, four months since she'd depressed the trigger and ended sixteen lives. Now she was a veteran and serving aboard the most powerful vessel Earth commanded. It was quite an honor and one she'd ensue she earned.

"Loading complete," reported Tas. For this mission she'd chosen a mix of anti-fighter and anti-shipping weaponry. She'd been gratified to hear that the external heavy weapons had been completed earlier than projected, something that in her experience as a fighter pilot was almost an anathema to the high tech that went into modern aircraft and the defense contractors that supplied them. She had a full load-out of Starseeker short range missiles and Startiger medium range missiles in her internal bays. However unlike at Erebus she was only carrying two missile pods on her external hard points, the other eight taken by SIM-1A Arbalest anti-shipping cruise missiles; four equipped with disruptor warheads, two with shaped nuclear 'plasma' warheads and two with mark three tactical nukes. She'd forgone the 'Twin Sword' railgun for a LG2A 'Dagger' rotary laser turret.

But perhaps the biggest change was the three 'pods' attached to her fighter; one on the tip of each wing and one on her belly between the rotary launchers. Her wings held a pair of GC1A 'Darkstorm' gravitic cannons, supersized versions of Commander Shepard's M-490 Blackstorm projector. They would send salvos of near-infinite mass projectiles at their targets, shattering them though gravitational sheering and kinetic force like massive biotic warps. Though they took almost four seconds to 'charge' before they could fire, simulations showed that just one could smoke an Al'kesh in one shot easy and that they would even pose a significant threat to Anubis refit Ha'tak shielding. On her belly rested an AC1A 'Zeus'. Like the GC1As, the Zeus was a supersized version of one of the Normandy's heavy small arms, in this case the Cerberus Arc Projector. She couldn't wait to see the havoc it would cause among the idiotically clumsy and tight formations Death Gliders flew in.

Taxiing her fighter to one of the catapults that lined the side of her bay, she was reminded of the new Battlestar Galactica series on TV. Functionally the catapults served a similar function, rapidly accelerating fighters for takeoff. Launching out the side of the spacecraft prevented them from flying straight into incoming fire and the speed boost made them far harder to snipe, not that anything the Goa'uld had could do that. That said, for all their advantages, the thought of loading herself and her bird into what was essentially a large, relatively low power mass accelerator was unnerving.

"Launch sequence in ten," announced the ATCO. Due to the configuration of the Nautilus' combat hanger bays, with two separate hangers mounted deck to deck, one right side up and one upside down relative to the rest of the ship's decks they had to use a progressive launch sequence to prevent fighters launching from the double stacked catapults endangering each other. As the Alpha, 'right side up' bay and indeed as the commanding officer of the Swordsmen she would be the first to launch from the port side hanger pod.

"Roger that," Sonic replied. Bracing herself for the rapid acceleration, an old, outdated habit in the days of inertial dampening, she watched the countdown projected on her HUD. It reached zero and with the slightest feeling of acceleration her fighter shot down the tube, exiting one point six seconds later. Her engines kicked on a moment later and she immediately pulled up and away from the warship, clearing the launch cone for those behind her.

From a distance it looked as if the Nautilus was firing torpedoes sideways, each projectile far more deadly than a single warhead attached to a rocket motor. Behind her the three Ha'tak had launched their own fighters, pilots from twenty five separate nations fighting together for the first time as one single entity.

Forming up they made a micro-jump towards the battle. Emerging only a few thousand kilometers from the edge of the battle the assembled fighters let off a salvo of what the pilots had affectionately named 'missile spam'. Hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of Startiger missiles swarmed towards the battle space, their VIs identifying the IFF transponders of Ba'al's Gliders and Al'kesh and swarming them mercilessly. Hundreds of explosions dotted the battlefield, each a strike craft detonating. Ta'ror had begun the battle with eight thousand Death Gliders. By the time the Tau'ri had arrived he was down to six. That last attack cost him almost three thousand more.

But if the Jaffa thought the missile attack was hell, they hadn't seen anything yet. Like the specter of death, the wings of Scimitars descended on the hapless enemy forces. Weapons from across the spectrum; laser, plasma, railgun, electromagnetic and gravitic began scything into their line. It took only one minute and six seconds before the first Ha'tak went up, four dozen Darkstorm pulses stripping its shield away and a plasma warhead gutting the exposed warship beneath.

Ta'ror watched the battle with a look of horror. Only thirty two of these nightmares had disemboweled Erebus' defenses. Now he was fighting almost four hundred, each far more heavily armed than before.

Sonic was having the time of her life. Already she'd made ace three times in this battle, thirty nine Death Gliders and four Al'kesh having fallen to her guns and missiles. Bringing her fighter around and sidestepping around a flight of slow moving 'allied' fighters, she set her sight on a nearby Ha'tak. According to her sensors it was one of the five Anubis refit motherships that Ba'al's forces had in this battle. It would make a fine prize.

Ordering her wing to form up, the lined her fighter up with the massive warship in the distance. Setting her Dagger cannon on auto, the small turret began tracking and eliminating nearby enemy fighters that threatened her. Watching the distance to target indicator, she depressed her axillary trigger, charging the Darkstorm cannons on her wings. Entering into range, she loosed two disruptor missiles from her wings, the cruise missiles crossing the relatively short range between her and her target before detonating, the space/time warp ripping at the enemy's shield. With a shrill cry she released the trigger, two spheres of gravitic energy slamming into its shield, joined seconds later by the weapons of her squadron, 'Darkstorm' spheres, 'Abel' railcannon rounds, and 'Volcano' heavy Thanix beams.

Strained beyond all tolerances, the shield generator of the unfortunate mothership did what most technological systems do when pushed too far: explode. With the loss of its primary and realistically only means of defense, the warship began suffering the death of a thousand cuts; fighter grade laser and Thanix cannons ripping armor and hull plating from her fragile from, eventually cutting deep into the superstructure. Moments later it went up, something critical having been hit.

Banking 'up' to avoid the explosion and separating from her squadron again, Sonic began hunting for another target. Seeing a pod of passing Al'kesh, she was about to gut them when a full dozen enemy gliders changed course, clearly meaning to intercept her. Sneering she turned to face them, her forward thrusters firing, flying her backwards and maintaining distance. Switching to her Zeus and designating the offending fighters as her targets she depressed the trigger.

The Cerberus Arc Projector worked by firing a low power laser at its target, ionizing a small area as a prelude to the high-voltage electrical attack. The Zeus was fundamentally the same weapon scaled to the needs of fighter combat. The targeting laser, sitting a few centimeters forward of the electromagnetic coils rapidly swept across all twelve enemies, ionizing their hulls. Moments later almost a full ten terajoules of stored energy leapt out, calibrated to the same frequency as the laser. Energy arced between the fighters, frying their pilots and electronics alike. With their controls gone, the small reactor cores that powered the badly designed fighters detonated, serving as the brief funeral pyres for the twelve unfortunate Jaffa.

Sonic grinned. She'd made ace again.

* * *

The three Tok'ra watched with open mouthed awe. Anise and Jacob had both witnessed the Scimitars effectiveness during the Erebus invasion, apparently in an incomplete form. Compared to what they were seeing now however…

"This is unbelievable," mumbled Thoran, his eyes glued to the display and with good reason. The Tau'ri warships hadn't even engaged in battle yet and already Ba'al had lost almost all of his remaining Gliders, half of his Al'kesh seven Ha'tak including one of his Anubis refits to the Tau'ri's unbelievable fighters. On their end, the Tau'ri had lost only sixteen Scimitars, among which only three had been fatalities, the rest having ejected and been beamed away before they could come to any harm. "How is this possible? Selmak, why didn't you report these weapons?"

"They were not there," replied the symbiote, sensing Jacob's voice wouldn't be welcome to his enraged Tok'ra comrade. "I believe they were not complete at the time."

"Anise, what is the status on Ba'al's forces?"

"He's lost thirteen Ha'tak so far," she replied, "along with almost all of his Death Gliders and eight hundred and change of his Al'kesh. The Tau'ri fighters have taken a toll but they haven't been able to stop his advance against Kali. She'd down to thirty one Ha'tak… make that thirty," she said as another of the System Lord Alliance capital ships went down, this one a Sokar refit. "The Tau'ri fighters appear to be retreating from the battle."

Examining the display, Jacob could think of any number of reasons for that behavior. "Most likely they've expended most of their ordinance or fuel and are returning to resupply."

"That would make sense," commented Anise. "Wait, I'm detecting a power spike from the Nautilus."

* * *

Kali had let her host's jaw go slack in shock. She'd never have believed it without seeing it for herself. When Amaterasu had returned from the treaty negotiations with stories of the Tau'ri's new super fighters, she'd dismissed such tales as nonsense. Apparently she'd been wrong. Unfortunately it wasn't enough.

Watching the display, she almost missed it. A bright, unbelievably fast streak crossed her line of sight, almost unseen even by her superior eyesight. The result was one of the four remaining Anubis refits detonating.

"What was that?" demanded the Hindu System Lord.

"Unknown my queen," replied Sule'ka. "Whatever it was overwhelmed the Ha'tak's shields in well under a second and ripped the ship in half. It appears to have come from the Tau'ri warship."

So fast had been the Tau'ri's blitz that she had not even considered communication with them. "Hail the humans."

It took a moment for the two systems to sync up before an image of an older, balding human filled her screen. Behind him was a surprisingly advanced looking command center of some kind, a large holographic tactical map showing the disposition of the entire battlefield.

"I am Kali, Goddess of Destruction. It is about time you arrived human."

The look the man sent her would've made lesser beings quiver. He looked down on her like she looked down on her human slaves and Kali, for the first time in a while found her host's stomach turning over in fear.

"Listen carefully parasite," replied the human with one of the most disrespectful and hate filled tones she'd ever heard, far surpassing Ra's condescending tirades or Sokar's evil ravings. "I am Colonel Steven Caldwell, commanding officer of the United States Air Force Battlecruiser Nautilus. The treaty and my orders are the only thing stopping me from sending you screaming into the void. But that said there isn't a force in the galaxy that compels me to put up with your bloated ego and arrogance. I've been sent here to pull your ass out of this massive clusterfuck that you've allowed this battle to devolve into. Once that's done I will collect any salvage I please and leave. Don't get in my way."

Kali was so taken aback that she couldn't manage a response before the transmission terminated. Seething with anger yet certain that if she turned on this Caldwell she would die in an instant, she could only boil with impotent rage.

The display had reverted in time to watch the Nautilus open up with her entire weapons array. Blinding blue beams of energy leapt from dozens of places across the ship's hull; from small streams barely the diameter of a Death Glider's staff cannon to ones wider than an entire Tel'tak. This was followed by dozens of missiles and torpedoes, salvo after salvo supplemented and multiplied by the three Ha'tak on her flanks. So numerous were the weapons salvos that they were as drops of rain against a defenseless peasant without cover.

Ta'ror in desperation sent whatever strike craft he had left against the enemy vessels, hoping that the fact that the Tau'ri fighters were resupplying would leave them vulnerable. That belief died stillborn well before they could enter into weapons range. The Nautilus opened up with hundreds of short range weapons; lasers, plasma flak and interceptor missiles tearing them from the skies with deadly accuracy.

Then it happened again. From beneath the mighty American warship, another streak leapt forth, impaling another Ha'tak like the fist of god. Witnessing the firing, she could make out the massive cannon, running almost the entire length of the vessel collapsing into itself, the impulse from the recoil so extreme as to push the whole ship almost fifty kilometers backwards before the engines managed to compensate.

"My queen, Ba'al's remaining forces are retreating… through our lines," said Sule'ka.

"WHAT?" Kali yelled, turning to look out a nearby window. She could make out the dozen or so remaining enemy capital warships advancing on her line quickly, firing everything they had. Three of her remaining Ha'tak detonated almost instantly. Death Gliders and Al'kesh caught by surprise slammed into their weakening shields, shattering and exploding along the way.

By the time Ba'al's remaining forces had made it clear they were down to eight warships, most of which were heavily damaged. She'd won but it was a pyrrhic victory at best. Looking out at the debris field before her, she saw the shattered remains of her fleet. She'd committed twenty six of her thirty remaining Ha'tak to this battle and of those, only her own flagship had survived, heavily damaged and barely spaceworthy. The ships of the other system lords weren't in any better condition, only eight surviving the battle. 'Sixty-one of seventy for only thirty-two of Ba'al's forces,' thought the System Lord bitterly. Hopefully she would be able to salvage some of Ba'al's more advanced technology from the debris. Then she remembered what Caldwell had said.

Indeed she could already see the Tau'ri vessels descending on the debris like carrion, beams of light sweeping the fields for anything interesting. Around them flew their monstrous fighters, rearmed and on patrol. Kali considered firing on them out of pure spite but like the rest of her race she wasn't suicidal. Sighing, she collapsed in her throne. "Sule'ka, set a course for home. We're done here."

"Yes my queen but…"

"But what?"

"Are you not concerned that the Tau'ri will destroy your facilities on Rakana?"

She considered that for a few seconds before dismissing the idea. "Despite what we've witnessed here, they are not invulnerable. They won't break the treaty before we do because they don't have the forces needed to protect all their holdings from our wrath."

Satisfied, the female warrior entered the commands into the console before her, the ragged alliance fleet fleeing into hyperspace.

"Not yet."

* * *

Caldwell sat quietly in his chair, reading from yet another tablet. He could've been barking out orders or hovering over his subordinates but the truth was they were more than qualified to do their jobs without his interference.

"Sir, the System Lords forces have retreated to hyperspace," reported Marks.

"Good, heading?"

"They seem to have gone separate directions, most likely heading for their own respective territories."

"Makes sense," replied the Colonel. "What about Ba'al's forces?"

"Headed back towards the border, most likely to regroup with other taskforces."

"Well that bastard won't be trying something like this again, not for a while anyway."

"Yes sir," replied Marks. A beep from his console alerted him to another event. "Sir, it appears our 'observers' have departed as well."

That made Caldwell snort. The Tok'ra must've been drinking too much of their own Kool-Aid to honestly believe that they couldn't detect the Tel'tak not a hundred thousand kilometers away, especially considering the Asgard sensors the Nautilus mounted. "Good, I hope we gave them a good show."

"Yes sir. We should be done with the salvage and resupply in about an hour and a half. Casualty figures haven't changed since last report. We lost three pilots and seventeen fighters across the taskforce. Another forty six fighters will be down for at least a week for repairs. It could've been far worse sir. I doubt the element of surprise will work like than again."

Caldwell sighed at that. It would only get harder from here on out.


	15. Chapter Twelve Of Mice and Men

**Chapter Twelve – Of Mice and Men**

_Atlantis_

_Alpha Quadrant, Pegasus Irregular Galaxy_

_September 12, 2004_

"They are known as the Genii," said Teyla to the assembled expedition members. "They are a people of hearty farmers and the Athosians have long enjoyed good trade relations with them."

"Sounds like the kind of people we want to get to know," commented Weir before falling silent for a moment. A look of deep thought crossed her face before she shook her head, dismissing whatever had distracted her. "While I doubt we'll be trading with them anytime soon, it's good ground work for us."

"Have they been hit by the Wraith lately?" asked Sumner.

"Not that I know of," replied Teyla, "but we haven't treated with them since three seasons ago when our own harvests ran short."

"Sounds like you have a go John," declared Weir. "And please try not to scare them. That means no heavy weapons Zarah," she intoned, looking directly at the Israeli. "We all remember what happened last time."

"How was I to know the Hoffans would consider my Cain to be a weapon of mass destruction?"

"It has a freaking nuclear symbol on the side," replied Shepard with a grin. He'd grown close to his XO in the past few weeks. "Might've been a clue in there somewhere."

"It's only as powerful as a few blocks of C-4 and I never deployed it."

"Well anyway this mission should be fairly safe," interjected Weir, cutting the bickering off.

"That means sidearms and SMGs only," added Sumner, "and no hardsuits. Those things look intimidating enough even without some of the 'extras' that you people love."

"Admit it, you love them too sir," replied Shepard. "Can we at least take tactical vests?"

"That should be fine," said Weir. While not as protective as a full combat hardsuit like the Tristan powered armor, the Iseult tactical vest was a good compromise for missions where they weren't expecting heavy combat. It still incorporated layers of high density armor, electronic warfare, communications and sensor suites and even a kinetic barrier generator but lacked the dispersive weave, extensive medical exoskeleton, weapon armatures and strength boosting electro-active polymers that a full suit came equipped with. Ironically they looked a lot like the standard tactical vests the SGC had been using for years.

"Good. Ok people," began Shepard, addressing his team, "we leave at 1300 hours. Standard off world protocols so Rodney, for the love of god please remember to prep the MALP this time."

"That wasn't my fault."

"It was still covered in raw sewage and sent the locals fleeing in disgust."

"I said that wasn't my fault."

"Then whose fault was it? Those drones don't clean themselves."

"Actually they do," replied the scientist smugly. "That system malfunctioned."

"Perfect," snorted the major. "Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…"

Needless to say the meeting ended shortly after that.

* * *

_Stargate Clearing_

_Genii Prime_

_Four Hours Later_

Emerging from the event horizon the newly christened SGA-1 immediately took note of their bearings. Like many worlds terraformed by the Alterans over the years, Genii Prime was beautiful in a rugged, untouched by humans sort of way, the kind of nature that could only be found in national parks among the first world back on Earth.

It didn't take the locals long to arrive to greet their visitors. Assessing them, John quickly dismissed them as a potential threat. Their clothing and general demeanor was not unlike other farmers he'd met over the years working in Special Forces but there was something about them, the caution that a hunted animal displays when faced with the unknown. It was something he was finding hard to get used to in this new galaxy.

One of them recognized Teyla and moved to greet her. "Teyla Emmagan."

"Tyrus, it has been many days," smiled the Athosian leader.

"Too many," continued the Genii man.

"This is Major John Shepard, Rasan Zarah Moshe and Doctor Rodney McKay of Earth."

Clearly Tyrus was cautious of them. "You wear their clothing of your own accord?"

"Yes, they have become good friends to my people and provided refuge from the Wraith during their recent attack on our world," replied the Athosian leader, choosing not to mention their rescue of the abductees. This would only raise questions that no one wanted to answer at this juncture.

"Well then any friend of the Athosians is a friend of Genii. Allow me to introduce my daughter Sora."

"A pleasure," said the blonde girl, flashing a brilliant smile at the three Terrans which Shepard immediately returned, earning a slight glare from her father.

"Come, Cowen will want to meet with you. I am curious as to the purpose of your visit. Do you come to trade?" asked the elder Genii, eyeing their equipment curiously.

"No we're just here to meet the neighbors," replied John easily. This wasn't the first mission of this kind he'd been on. "Our world is far, far away and we're new to the area. So this is more or less a meet and greet although we would be willing to trade if something catches our interest."

"I see," replied Tyrus as he led them away from the Stargate. "We do not often have guests so brave. Do you not fear that by using the Ring of the Ancestors you would attract the Wraith to you home?"

"Well our world is so far away that the Wraith couldn't hope to reach it in any reasonable amount of time. And even if they do, they'll find a rather nasty surprise waiting for them."

Tyrus mulled this over. He was certain there was far more to these people then what he saw, and that was impressive enough. Each was carrying a pair of advanced looking sidearms of some type and the quality of manufacturing evident in their equipment spoke of an extremely heavily industrialized culture, far beyond what the Genii had been capable of even at the height of the Confederation.

As the group continued, Tyrus hung back to speak into a wrist mounted radio. "We're bringing them in. All operations go silent." No one noticed but unfortunately for the Genii, Rodney's omni-tool was on passive scan. Set to silent mode the small device, looking to be little more than a watch sent a beep to his headset, alerting him to the anomaly. But occupied as he was not-so-subtly ogling Sora, he chose to ignore it.

The village they arrived at was everything they'd come to expect on worlds several galaxies over. The dwellings were above average in their construction but they were still something one would expect a peasant to live in during the height of Dark Ages Europe.

"This is Cowen, leader of our people," introduced Tyrus after a brief moment alone with the Genii leader.

"It is always good to meet new friends from among the stars. Though we do not often get guests that come from as far away as you claim. Is it true your world has never been touched by the Wraith?"

"Not to my knowledge," replied Sheppard, "and I doubt they'd be able to without us knowing. Not the most subtle species in the universe."

"Indeed they are not. So if you have not come to trade…"

"That's not necessarily true," said McKay, surprising the rest of his team. Rodney McKay wasn't exactly known as diplomatic. "It will be a while until our own aeroponic and hydroponic facilities come online so we could use a bit more food. At least that's what Elizabeth said. Apparently the Air Force is getting a bit irritated by our supply demands and have 'asked'," he said, making quotes with his fingers, "that we find a local source."

"Why didn't she say anything at the briefing?" asked Zarah.

"It was only yesterday that she got the message and I think she's still thinking about how to handle the request," replied the scientist with a shrug. "That's what I heard."

"I guess we do have some trade needs after all," said Sheppard, addressing Cowen again. "We don't need a lot but whatever you could spare. We are willing to trade medicines, manufactured goods and maybe even some weaponry although I'd have to ask our leaders Doctor Weir and Colonel Sumner about that." John had no idea how he'd get the chronically pacifistic diplomat to sign off on that one.

"How much food are we talking about?" asked Cowen, clearly in his element.

"Enough to feed maybe seventy people for a month or two," replied Zarah. She'd spent some time as her squad's logistics and supply officer, after losing a bet, before joining Israeli Special Forces and she still retained the skills needed.

Cowen put on a show of sighing at that. While what these people were asking for was a mere pittance to the militaristic Genii, he was going to use their defenseless farmer image to milk these people for everything he could. "I'm afraid we will need more. You are asking for a good part of our harvest and this season has not been as good as in the past. What's more, clearing land is a difficult task for us."

"What if clearing land was easier?" asked Sheppard, an idea forming in his mind. He was beginning to get a creeping suspicion about these people but dismissed it as paranoia.

The Genii laughed at that. "You know of an easy way of uprooting a tree stump?" asked Cowen incredulously. True the Genii did too but he was a 'simple' farmer after all.

"Several actually," replied the Major, "although if you want a demonstration now we'd have to resort to high explosives."

That caught Cowen's attention. Their little 'project' underground was lacking just that. "If what you say is true, we would be willing to trade a portion of our Tava bean crops with you in exchange for your assistance in clearing a sufficient amount of lands, some medicines and other goods. Although we would trade more for weapons in addition but I understand you may have problems getting your leaders to agree to that." Personally Cowen was extremely interested in whatever these people had to offer but pushing them might not be the wisest idea. They might push back and even after their admittedly limited contact he could tell they could easily crush the Genii.

"Well then we have an agreement," said Zarah with a grin. It wasn't so different from the Gaza Strip here she decided. 'Except with less car bombs.'

The group was quickly led to a nearby stump. It was the remains of what must've been a very tall tree and to Shepard's eye promised to have an extensive root system below. 'Still, nothing a charge or two can't clear.' Activating his omni-tool in plain sight, grinning at the shocked looks the holographic interface prompted from the natives, he quickly accessed the minifacturing suite and ordered it to create a simple C-12 charge. A distant descendant of C-4, C-12 was a far more powerful form of plastic explosive. The change had been necessary for the Systems Alliance Marine Corps after it was discovered that while usually quite stable, one thing C-4 didn't like was mass effect fields. Shepard winced at that image.

Walking up to the stump, the Air Force officer applied the small electronic explosive device to the dried and knarred bark, the molecular adhesive ensuring an instant and strong bond. Backing away, he began, "You all might want to cover your ears."

"Why?" asked one of the Genii, feigning confusion.

"It'll be loud," replied Sheppard. When the locals had followed his instructions, he shot a grin at his second. "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" A single tap and the stump was practically atomized, what little was left raining down around them along with a whole lot of dirt and grass clippings.

Cowan was shocked. The Genii had of course long had access to various forms of explosives but nothing like this. Not only was it controlled by what had to be some sort of radio system but the level of power that could be achieved from such a small device was unbelievable.

"So are you satisfied?" asked the cheeky major.

Cowen could only nod.

* * *

Rodney was a little drunk. While he was definitely a city person he had to admit the harvest festival was certainly pleasant. And the local moon-shine was better than some he'd had in the past, not that he'd ever tell anyone. He grinned as he remembered when his lab partner had cooked up some grain alcohol back in his university days. 'Good old University of Calgary.'

Staggering slightly, he excused himself to the outside. It wasn't polite to relieve one's self in someone else's home when they lacked indoor plumbing. A violated tree and some off-tune whistling later he was feeling a lot better and decided to check his omni-tool's constant nagging for attention. Activating the device he could feel himself instantly sober. "Neutron radiation? Radio signals?" he said to himself. "What the hell?"

Apparently he'd been outside for long enough to draw attention from his team-mates. "Doctor McKay, is something wrong?"

So absorbed had he been in the readings that the woman's voice scared the shit out of him. "Jesus Zarah, don't do that!"

The Israeli just grinned. "So what has drawn your attention to such an extent?"

"Well, my omni-tool has been picking up something it shouldn't have."

"What?"

"Evidence of a nuclear fission reactor nearby for one."

Zarah's eyebrows practically climbed up her forehead at that. The last thing she'd thought she'd be dealing with in another galaxy was frigging nuclear reactors. Again. Sighing she continued, "Any idea where it is?"

"That what I'm trying to figure out and… the hell?" he repeated as the results of the MALP's subsurface scan came in. "I don't think these are the people we thought they were."

Accessing the readings herself, Zarah let out a long, low whistle. "Impressive. Last time I saw something like this I was sneaking into an Iranian nuclear lab." Examining the results closer she hummed. "It looks like there's an access point in a structure about a kilometer and a half to the north."

"Well lead on," replied the scientist.

"One moment," she continued, forwarding the data to Sheppard and Teyla along with a quick briefing in text form. "Let's go."

It didn't take them long to locate the structure and even less time to find the rather poorly hidden iron hatch. Descending the ladder, the two were greeted by an impressive view from an overlook of a massive cavern filled with structures. "It looks like we were being hood-blinked," commented the Israeli woman.

Rodney just sighed. Sometimes it was like hanging with Ziva David. "That's hoodwinked Zarah."

"Right…," she began before the slight sound of a weapon cocking drew her attention. Faster than should've been natural for a human she'd drew her Colt M-5 Phalanx heavy pistol and aimed it, the blue targeting laser resting between the eyes of a clearly surprised man in what was obviously a military uniform, his rifle not even half way ready. "Company!"

It wasn't long before the duo found themselves surrounded; six of what had to be Genii aiming weapons at them. It was only a moment later before Cowen, who'd gone suspiciously missing during the party appeared. "I suggest you drop your weapons. You're surrounded."

Zarah sneered at that. A simple flick of her eyes triggered her barriers via her headset's retinal interface, the bluish shimmer causing the Genii to start, more so when Rodney's appeared only seconds later followed by him drawing his Kassa Fabrications M-12 Locust SMG. "You may have numerical superiority but by the time those antiques," she began, gesturing to their weapons, "can chew through our kinetic barriers, your men will be on the ground with craters in their chests."

Cowen didn't know what a kinetic barrier was but guessed it was some sort of shield that had appeared with that bluish light. Their weapons were obviously powerful despite the almost laughably small bores they seemed to mount.

Though he'd never heard of it before, Cowen had found himself in classic Mexican stand-off.

* * *

Sheppard was starting to get that good old paranoid feeling again. It was a familiar friend that'd saved his life several times in Afghanistan and it was screaming that something was wrong.

"Teyla?"

"Yes, I feel it too. I have never seen the Genii behave this way before."

He noticed the mail icon in the corner of his vision, the holographic heads up display just a slight sliver of light before his eyes and decided it was worth checking. Activating his omni-tool, something the locals had gotten used to by now, his eyes widened slightly at what he saw. Tapping in a few commands, he switched to the camera on Zarah's headset and found himself looking down several gun barrels.

"Shit," he muttered; the curse only loud enough for Teyla to hear. "We've got problems."

The Athosian woman quickly caught on as he passed the feed to her. "Indeed."

"We're going to go see if Rodney and Zarah got lost," announced Sheppard, putting on a show of swaying a bit to simulate drunkenness.

Having already been in contact with the bunker, Sora nearly panicked. Surely they couldn't know about their friends already? "It's not safe. There's a Wraith ship in the area. We must remain indoors or we'll draw their attention."

Sheppard didn't even bother poking holes in that argument out loud. Firstly, how the hell could they know a Wraith spacecraft was nearby, lacking anything as basic as a telescope much less a sensor array? Secondly, how could a timber hut like the one he was in possibly block starship grade sensors and thirdly, wouldn't these people be concerned about their own family and friends outside too? Still he was willing to indulge her. Activating his omni-tool again, Sheppard interfaced with the MALP's far more sophisticated and extensive sensor array and began an active scan of orbit.

"I'm not picking anything up. Are you sure there's a ship in orbit?"

Sora was officially in over her head. She hadn't actually known these people could detect vessels thousands of kilometers away with their freaking watches. Focusing on Sheppard again, the look in his eyes made it clear it was far past time to put this farce to rest. Reaching for her belt, she felt the comforting weight of her standard issue sidearm and could see the major reaching for his own. Still, he was surrounded.

Sheppard knew this situation was going south fast. Deciding to buy time, he went on the offensive. "You all can cut the crap; we know everything. The bunkers, your research into nuclear weaponry. Did you honestly think you could keep it a secret forever?"

Sora and the rest of the Genii drew their weapons while Sheppard drew was suspiciously looked like a grenade. "We never expected someone with your level of technology to come to our world." Gesturing at the small device in his hand she grinned, "What are you planning? You can't honestly expect us to believe that you'd blow yourself up?"

Sheppard was planning no such thing. Sending a limited, pre-canned message to Teyla through his retinal interface, he grinned. "No, but there's more than one type of grenade."

Sora had just a moment to contemplate his words before John threw the grenade to the ground. The world exploded in light and sound and by the time her vision cleared, the two were long gone. "After them!"

Running towards the location of their teammates, Teyla couldn't help but ask. "Were you planning that all along?"

"It worked didn't it?" John was actually glad it did. Exploding a flashbang at one's feet was a dangerous proposition. The mark fourteen grenades in use by the Systems Alliance Marine Corps were useful little devices however. Unlike grenades of the twentieth century, they were both modular and completely electronic so there wasn't an actual 'detonation' and shrapnel wasn't a concern. That said the flash and the bang were still a problem but his HUD had protected his eyes like a pair of sunglasses and the headset had done the same for his ears. Yet another of the little 'ideas' that had been flooding out of Area 51.

With the data Zarah has provided it didn't take long to find the structure the hatch was located in. A pair of armed guards might've been a problem if not for the integrated arc disruptors in their pistols; the two men dropping like sacks of potatoes from a single discharge apiece. Sending a burst message to warn their comrades below, Sheppard readied another grenade, deploying the stabilizer fins and tossing it down the hole. The small discus-like device flew a preprogrammed course, dropping right in front of Cowen.

By the time the Genii leader had regained his vision, the foursome had disarmed his men and he was staring down the weapons of three very pissed Terrans. Behind them Teyla looked on, disappointment clear on her face.

"So much for a friendly meet and greet," growled Sheppard.

"You invaded our home," replied Cowen. "What did you expect?"

"You know, if people could learn to keep their secret underground hatches locked," snarked McKay, "this would've never happened."

"You expect me to believe that?" asked Cowen indignantly. "How then did you find this place?"

Sheppard conceded the point. Still a bunker was one thing. Nuclear weapons were something else entirely. Deciding to take a leap of faith he lowered his weapon. "Look, the last thing we need right now is another enemy. So we can either keep pointing guns at each other or we can talk. You were interested in our explosives obviously…"

"Probably as a solution to your super criticality problems," theorized McKay.

Cowen was caught off guard by that. "Then you understand. Could it work?"

"No," replied the Canadian flatly. "C-12 explosives would rip your bomb apart and spread nuclear fallout for kilometers. It's simply too powerful to contain using your limited metallurgical knowledge for any constructive application."

Cowen frowned at that. "But you know something that might?"

"That depends," interrupted Sheppard. "Are we going to keep pointing guns at each other or are we going to sit down and talk like the supposedly civilized people we pretend to be?"

It was a risk certainly. But Cowen realized that they could be powerful allies and beyond that he also realized that above everything else, he couldn't afford them as enemies.

"Well then," he began, gesturing for Sora to stand down after she appeared from a nearby tunnel, "welcome."

* * *

Examining the chamber before him, Rodney couldn't help but be reminded of the images from the Manhattan Project. "Well your shielding is woefully inadequate but you're generally on the right track," he said, addressing Cowen. "We're about sixty years ahead of you, not including our recent acquisitions." He'd been ordered by Elizabeth, Sumner and Sheppard not to go spreading the true extent of Earth's current technology around. Rodney was many things but he wasn't stupid. Some lines and some people you just don't cross. "The question is uranium. How much of it do you have?"

Cowen wasn't about to let that be known to these people, regardless of their temporary 'truce'. "Much more," he replied neutrally.

"But it's nowhere near weapons-grade is it?"

"We have had problems in our purifying efforts. The molecular structure of the unwanted material is very similar to that of the desired material."

"You need a centrifuge to isolate the two thirty-five," commented Zarah drawing looks of confusion. "I know almost as much about nuclear weapons as Doctor McKay considering my past… activities in Iran."

Cowen decided it would be best not to ask. "Could you show us how to construct such a device?"

Sheppard didn't like where this was headed. Never mind the fact that loose nukes had become the bane of American foreign policy in the wake of the collapse of the Soviet Union but also, Elizabeth would skin him alive for even hinting at an agreement to provide such knowledge. Deferring he countered. "The question isn't if we can show you how to build a nuke. The question is what are you going to use it for? We've already got enough nutcases with nuclear material running around back home."

Cowen ignored the slight. He'd earned that. "Come with me."

The group was led into another laboratory, this one filled with computer equipment that looked like it belonged in a museum. "Many generations ago during a culling, the Genii were able to shoot down a Wraith dart. Although many lives were lost that day, the ability to resist even in some small way gave the Genii the seeds of hope."

Tyrus moved to one of the desks that dotted the room and removed a small device from a wooden box. "This data storage device was recovered from that downed Wraith dart."

McKay seized on that. "Could I see that," asked the scientist, activating his omni-tool. Receiving the device, the interfaced with the strange alien computer and began transferring the data, a translation algorithm quickly translating the alien language into English using data recovered from their 'first contact' on the Wraith Hiveship that Colonel Sumner had been held aboard.

"Incredible," muttered Tyrus. "It took us decades to accomplish what you've done in seconds."

"Well McKay," asked Sheppard. "What've you got?"

"It looks like a cross between a black-box and a navigational database," he replied. "A lot of it's what you'd expect. Data on the Dart's avionics, engines, life support etcetera. The navigational data is more interesting." Bringing up what looked like a star chart, he continued. "That appears to be the vessel's point of origin. It looks like it travelled through a Stargate to get here from another planet but… hello, hello what's this?"

"Data concerning the interior layout of the Wraith vessel," supplied Cowen. "We believe that using this device, we can access the Wraith vessel's database and locate the positions of other vessels that lie dormant during the periods between cullings."

"A target list," concluded Shepard, "of where to plant your bombs."

"Exactly."

"Not a bad plan but it won't work," said McKay offhandedly.

"What do you mean?" replied Sora in a hostile tone. How dare these outsiders mock everything the Genii had worked towards for generations?

"Look," began the portly man, "destroying a vessel isn't as easy as detonating a nuke and boom! It requires a detailed understanding of its power distribution grid or something a hell of a lot bigger than anything you could realistically build in any of your lifetimes."

"What do you mean?" asked Cowen. While he wasn't as offended as Sora, he still resented these neophytes' arrogance.

"Nuclear fission weapons have a limit to their yield. Usually that tops out at around five hundred kilotons or about thirty or so Hiroshima sized bombs. Beyond that it becomes impossible to create a device portable enough to be transported and even then you're looking at something the size of this room or bigger given your level of technology. For something man portable the best we've ever managed to achieve with pure fission was something like the W54 warhead which yielded only about ten to twenty tons and weighed in at twenty three kilograms. And by the way, that was using technology that by our standards was almost two decades beyond your own."

"So what would such a device do to a Wraith vessel?" asked Tyrus.

"If, and I stress if you could somehow attach it to a reactor it might breech the core's shielding and trigger a meltdown that would destroy the vessel but…," began McKay.

"But the reactor complex is one of the most heavily guarded places aboard any ship for just that reason," finished Zarah. "So unless you're willing to go on a suicide mission and only destroy one vessel, maybe, then this won't work."

Cowen considered that a moment before a point of curiosity expressed itself. "Just what yield would be required to completely destroy a hive ship from anywhere within the vessel?"

McKay considered that a moment, doing some basic, at least to him, mental arithmetic before answering. "Given the weapon being placed as far from a power conduit as possible, for instance near the outer hull and I'd guess you'd need at least an eighty megaton device to ensure a secondary explosion that would damage the vessel to a point where it couldn't recover. From the outside it becomes even harder because Wraith ships have such heavy organic armor protecting them. At least that's my best guess given the limited sensor data you managed to pull from that ship we destroyed a few weeks ago."

That caught the Genii's focus. "Pardon?" asked Sora, completely forgetting her irritation.

"I told you that our world was attacked," began Teyla. The Genii nodded and she continued, "and that these people took us in. During the attack they successfully shot down two darts before the third could capture some of my people along with their leader, Colonel Marshall Sumner."

"We don't leave people behind," continued Sheppard, "and so we mounted a rescue. During that action we managed to rescue three of the four captured Athosians and the colonel and we even captured what we think was the Hiveship's queen." That brought looks of disbelief but Cowen allowed Sheppard to continue. "During our escape we hacked the ship's computers and set its self-destruct to remote activation. After we'd taken off in our own ship we triggered it and blew the entire place straight to hell, although I still think we underestimated the blast radius."

"No kidding," snorted McKay. "The jumper's cloak fried half its control crystals during that little stunt and guess who had to replace them hmm?"

Cowen ignored the bickering. These people had a ship and if this 'cloak' was what he thought it was… "What do you mean by a cloak?"

"It's a name from an old TV show," snorted McKay. "It's actually an Electromagnetic Distortion Device if you want to get technical. It bends electromagnetic radiation around a vessel rendering it effectively invisible to most forms of sensors and to the naked eye. A sophisticated stealth device if you will."

Cowen didn't understand what McKay had just said, at least not the technical terms. But he did understand 'invisible to the naked eye' just fine. He couldn't have asked for a more perfect opportunity. "If we were to use this ship of yours, could we infiltrate this Hiveship without being detected?"

"I don't see why not," replied McKay. "And I'd love to get my hands on a copy of its database," he continued, sending a look at Sheppard the major usually associated with his nieces and nephews when they were asking for Uncle John to buy them a new toy.

"I'll have to ask Elizabeth but…," replied John. Oh boy was he not looking forward to this debriefing.

* * *

"I sent you out on a meet and greet and you come back with atomic weapons!" growled Weir in a voice she usually reserved for intransigent diplomats or her ex-boyfriends, the really bad ones anyway.

"Nice one Sheppard," grinned Sumner. He was really beginning to like this second's initiative. "Although we already have a decent stockpile of our own."

That was one of the topics Elizabeth wasn't even going to breech. She hated the thought that they'd come to another galaxy with more nuclear firepower than the American, British, French, Russian and Chinese strategic deterrents combined tucked in a crate that now sat under twenty four hour guard in the armory.

"Ok, I want to be clear on this one. I didn't give them or even offer them help in their bomb project. Although McKay was practically bouncing up and down like a puppy in excitement," commented the major, shooting the scientist a look.

"What can I say? I like building things."

Elizabeth wasn't going to be baited that easily. "Well that makes me feel so much better thank you major," she replied sarcastically. "You practically promised them we'd help if they supplied us with the necessary support to infiltrate this Hiveship. And you offered them weapons during negotiations for food!"

"I wasn't thinking mass accelerators. Maybe a few crates of M-16s or something," defended the major. "And that was before I realized they had more rifles than Sweden packed away in their version of Cheyenne. It's not like we haven't been doing the same thing with the Rebel Jaffa."

"Or the Afghani tribes," countered the diplomat. "How'd that work out for us?"

Realizing this could turn into a real battle any moment, Sumner decided to intercede. "Ok I think that's enough, both of you. You've both made your points so now it's your turn to listen to me. While I don't exactly like the terms of this agreement that Major Sheppard made, access to a Wraith Database would be an intelligence gold-mine and could help save lives in the future. What's more, we haven't had much luck with that pink haired pain in the ass downstairs yet so this sounds like a perfect opportunity for us. That said I don't trust these people as far as I can throw them and I doubt anyone here does either. So let's use this opportunity to get the Intel and then part ways with the Genii on peaceful terms."

"Understood sir," replied Sheppard, slipping back into the military mindset. "I request we bring a limited delegation to Atlantis. We'll keep the address hidden from them and it gives us an opportunity to show off," everyone replaced 'show off' with 'intimidate' in their minds, "and it'll be easier to stage the mission from here then Genii Prime."

Sumner nodded his agreement at this plan but ultimately it wasn't up to him. "Fine," sighed Elizabeth, "but they're to be under constant guard. The first sign of trouble I want them disabled and sent back and the mission's off. And they use their own equipment. We don't want any of our state of the art technology falling into their hands."

As the meeting broke, Elizabeth gestured for John to stay behind. "I don't like this plan but I've supported plenty of things I've disagreed with in the past. I just hope it doesn't come back to bite us in the ass."

"Me too Elizabeth, me too."

"Good, just so we're on the same page here," she continued as the pilot left the room. "Oh and John…"

"Yeah?"

"In the future, let me handle the negotiations."

* * *

As the Stargate activated, Cowen again contemplated whether his decision not to ambush the 'Terrans' was correct. They were a rising power if he'd ever seen one and access to even a little bit of their technology could be worth its weight in gold.

His instincts were reinforced a moment later with the emergence of a large white machine of some sort. It seemed to be hovering on a pair of rocket-like pods and a large fan in its rear. It mounted some sort of heavy cannon and unlike the small diameter of the barrels of their small arms, this thing was large enough to stick his hand in. Definitely something he didn't want to tangle with.

A hatch on the rear opened and Major Sheppard and his team emerged, this time clad in some sort of heavy armor. As they approached he could make out more and more detail. Unlike during their first visit they were armed for war, five separate weapons carried by each and every one of them, even Doctor McKay.

"Cowen, I see you're ready to go," said Sheppard, eyeing their equipment with a slight frown. Both Tyrus and Cowen were carrying what appeared to be some sort of submachine guns and had their pistols holstered on their belts.

"Yes, I've been looking forward to this for a long time," replied the Genii leader. "I take it this is your ship?"

Sheppard let out a laugh at that. "No, no, this is a Hammerhead hovertank. We'll be staging the mission out of our… home. Come on, get aboard."

The two Genii looked at the machine warily. They were trusting these near strangers with a lot but if it allowed them to succeed it would be worth it. Still they evidently didn't trust the Genii and staging the mission from their world was a decision that Cowen, as a military leader wholly approved of. At the same time it threw a very large wrench into his after mission plans. "Where will we go to after the mission?" he asked, eyeing Sora behind him. "So Sora knows where to meet us."

Sheppard wasn't convinced by this little act but there was already a plan in place for the eventuality of a double cross. "Here," she said, passing the young Genii woman a piece of paper, "this is the gate address of a planet where we'll meet up after the mission. This way it'll avoid drawing any Wraith pursuit to either of our worlds."

Cowen nodded approvingly at this. It was a world known to the Genii and was perfect for his purposes. "Sora, send team there in…," he began before looking towards the major.

"About five hours. If we're not back by then we probably won't be coming."

"Understood," said the Genii, sharing a look with her leader. "Five hours."

Cowen nodded once more at her, both he and her father snapping a crisp salute before boarding the tank.

Watching the machine enter the event horizon, Sora allowed a grin to cross her features. Five hours of work with these people would gain the Genii more knowledge and technology then the past five centuries of hiding.

* * *

It wasn't a long trip by any means but as they exited the Stargate, Cowen felt his mouth go slack. He'd expected an advanced world but this… "This is your world?"

Sheppard snorted. "No as I said earlier, our world is millions of light years away. Welcome to Atlantis."

The look that brought was almost comical for the three Terrans, much as it had been on other missions when they'd told the locals the name of their new digs.

"The City of the Ancestors," murmured Tyrus. "But how…?"

"Come on, before you start drooling," commented Sheppard. In the time it'd taken the locals to get over their shock, the tank had ascended into some sort of bay above the Stargate and had nosed its way onto one of numerous pads that lined the large space. Exiting the machine Cowen noticed another like it sitting nearby as well as three other types of machines. One was a large, cylindrical craft that matched the local architecture while the other two types definitely didn't belong; one with the looks of a cockroach while the other had the hunched form of a praying mantis.

"We'll be taking that one," commented the major, gesturing to one of the cylindrical spacecraft.

Cowen noticed one of the Ancestor machines in the far corner had been disassembled and frowned disapprovingly. "What are you doing to that one?"

"Hmm," asked Rodney offhandedly. "Oh that. It's one of the ones we found in a secondary bay and was damaged so we're taking it apart to learn what makes it tick. Eventually we hope to integrate some of our own tech so it's a bit more useful."

Cowen had a hard time believing that. The Ancestors were an advanced race by any measure. "Improve them in what way?"

Sheppard just smiled at that. "Oh this and that. Come on, there's a bit of a reception waiting for you and I thought we'd offer a bit of a tour before we get going."

Following, Cowen took in anything and everything he could. The city was a marvel unlike any he'd ever encountered. He could already see the Genii striking the Wraith from this place, fantasies of purging the galaxy of their kind playing like movies in his head. Descending a staircase, the group entered some sort of control room. Unlike such facilities in Genii bunkers, the space was open and everywhere he looked holographic displays dotted the room. Beyond the nearby balcony he could see the imposing form of the Stargate, backlit by a large stained glass window.

"Cowen, I'd like to introduce Doctor Elizabeth Weir, leader of the Atlantis Expedition and Colonel Marshall Sumner, head of our military contingent here and my boss."

Sizing up the pair before him, Cowen was forced to reassess his opinion of these people. Even this Weir seemed to have a fire rarely found among the people of this galaxy. Sumner he'd expected that from; after all he was a soldier but Elizabeth Weir was clearly a civilian. Just not one he'd want to cross anytime soon. "A pleasure," he said, offering his hand in friendship.

"Welcome to Atlantis. It's always nice to greet another civilization in friendship," she replied. She was conducting her own assessment of the man before her and was immediately reminded of some of the less agreeable members of the UN General Assembly. No, the Genii weren't going to earn her trust easily if this man was emblematic of their leadership. "If you'll come with me I'd like to show you something."

The diplomat lead the group towards a nearby door, the portal opening before them onto a small balcony and granting the pair of Genii their first glance of the majestic beauty of this place. Shaped like a snowflake, the city stretched out before them. But as they observed closer that beauty was marred by signs of these Terrans, construction bots and cranes covering several structures that had been stripped down to their superstructures. "What are you doing?"

Following his gaze, Elizabeth could see him looking towards the new Stargate complex on the north pier. "We're constructing a new home for the Stargate. Colonel if you could explain…"

"Sure," continued Sumner. "Well when we got here one of the first things that struck us was the completely idiotic location of the gate. I mean who the hell would put a potential tactical threat in the same room as the cities primary command and control center? So we've begun construction on a dedicated and heavily reinforced facility well away from the core structures that will house it in the future."

"Ah life in the burbs," commented Sheppard, earning a glare from Weir which he ignored. "Always construction no matter where you go."

Personally Elizabeth wasn't particularly happy about their modifications to the city. Somewhere in her mind she still considered this place as belonging to the Alterans and they were just here until they came back. Logically she knew that wasn't likely to ever happen and the powers back home had made it clear that they sought to fully claim this city and everything in it. In actuality the Stargate complex was just one of hundreds of modifications that were currently under construction. Atlantis had served its former inhabitants as their center of government, culture and science but for all those grand purposes it lacked the kind of military and industrial capacity needed to fight a war, something that had ultimately cost the Lanteans.

Knowing a conflict with the Wraith was inevitable the military had begun to transform the city into a fortress. Hundreds of gatling laser turrets, plasma flak, interceptor missile launchers and anti-missile lasers would soon dot the structure as part of its new GARDIAN array. They would be supported by batteries surface-to-orbit missile launchers, particle beam turrets and Thanix cannons mounted on the piers along with a full airbase with twelve squadrons of Scimitars constructed in what had once been one of the three massive cargo bays that ran the length of each primary pier. Weir had relented and allowed the installation of the weapons but had insisted that they at least maintain the city's architecture. As a result of her demands, a field team from a New York architectural firm had arrived a few weeks earlier to liaise with the construction crews on how best to achieve that goal.

Beyond that there were plans to install a starship grade neutrino-ion reactor in each pier, a full transporter array and complete retrofits to the city's sensors, communications, life supports and shield generators. On the southeast pier three former residential towers were being modified into automated vertical greenhouses and another of the cargo bays was scheduled for conversion into a small shipyard that would grant the city the ability to repair visiting vessels as well as construct Tyco frigates, Ptolemaeus destroyers, Achilles freighters and McArthur transports.

Long term plans included a full overhaul of the city's hyperdrive, sublight engines and installation of a few million metric tons of armor plating. Fueling this entire process was the already completed nanolathe complex on the southwest pier and over a hundred automated mining operations on the mainland that were feeding the city everything from trinium and naquadah to iron, titanium, cobalt and even eezo via a series of orbiting Arklight satellites.

"I'm not sure I approve of this," grumbled Cowen. "This place is a legacy of the Ancestors. Modifying it is almost like…"

"Like sacrilege," finished Weir. "It's not something haven't already heard from the Athosians but it's already been decided. This city spent the last ten thousand years at the bottom of an ocean and much of the infrastructure that the Lanteans relied upon to supply it is either long destroyed or in the hands of the Wraith or other undesirables."

"But still…," continued Tyrus, not really able to verbalize his objections in a way that these people would accept.

Sumner could tell that Weir wasn't really ready for this conversion yet and stepped in. "Like it or not the Lanteans or the Ancients or the Ancestors or whatever are long gone and aren't going to return. Either we use this city or we leave it to rot. If we're going to fight the Wraith then we need a base of operations in this galaxy and this is it."

"Anyway we need to get going," said Sheppard, gesturing to the door. "We've got less than five hours before Sora thinks we're all dead."

"Yes," replied Cowen after a moment. He may not like it but this city belonged to these people and judging by what he'd already seen that wasn't likely to change anytime soon. "Lead on."

As they returned to the Jumper bay, John pulled Cowen aside. "Let's get one thing clear. I'm in charge of this mission."

"I have been planning for this for almost my entire life," replied the Genii leader, the hostility dripping from his words.

"Good for you but let's face facts here. From the moment Rodney interfaced with that Wraith data recorder of yours we didn't need you anymore. We have the ships, the weapons and the people to do this on our own. Bringing you along is a courtesy and a gesture of friendship. But make no mistake, this is my mission and if I ask you to jump you don't argue, don't question it and sure as hell do what I say."

Cowen was taken aback by this attitude. He was used to being the most powerful man in the room wherever he went and rarely had he been put in his place like this. At least not for a long time. Nodding, he cracked a smile, "I haven't been spoken to like that for almost two decades."

"Me neither," replied Sheppard, his severe tone far diminished. "I just wanted to make it clear. This mission is going to be difficult enough. A Wraith ship, hostile aliens, mostly unknown conditions and a joint-op will be gumming up the works. A clear chain of command is the least we can do to simplify things."

"So long as I get what I want, I'm fine with your conditions," replied Cowen.

"Good," finished Sheppard, resuming their short journey towards the hanger. Entering the smallcraft, no one was surprised by the delay on either side. They could guess at the contents of the conversations by the looks of their commander's faces.

Without the slightest bump, the Puddlejumper lifted off and descended through the hatch in the floor into the embarkation room below. Sheppard couldn't wait for the new complex on the north pier to come online. Instead of the stacked design utilized in the central tower, the new facility would feature a single level design that would allow a straight shot at the gate for spacecraft and ground vehicles.

Entering the coordinates into the console, the Stargate sprang to life. With a slight mental nudge, the ship shot forwards. The illusory streaking of lights ended as soon as it began as the Jumper exited on the other side into a deep fog. Moments later it shimmered and disappeared as the cloak engaged. The sensors began tracking the environment around them and led the group straight to their destination.

"Look at the size of that thing," commented Sheppard. "They sure build them big."

"No, no," replied Rodney in his trademark condescending tone. "I doubt they build those ships."

"What?"

"One of Beckett's people thinks they grow them," replied the scientist. "We don't know how or what the process involved entails but then again that's what we're here for," he continued, idly scrolling through a long list of entries on his omni tool, occasionally making sounds of interest or disappointment.

"Would you stop that," interjected Zarah. "It is very irritating."

"Yeah McKay, what're you doing anyway?" added Sheppard.

"Tali gave me a copy of her database of combat software and I'm making a list of favorites that could help on this mission."

"I don't understand," said Tyrus. As far as he was concerned, that whole sentence was Lantean to him.

"Ok," began the Canadian with a sigh. "What passes for computers on Wraith ships are networked like pretty much on every other ship. Combat software or 'battle viruses' are designed to interfere with or cripple those networks and that could give us a leg up on this mission."

"You think you could take remote control of that big mother?"

"No, not unless we get to the bridge. What little data Sumner collected during his internment shows that unlike, say the Nautilus or the Normandy or even a Goa'uld Ha'tak, Wraith systems are somewhat less robust. They don't employ the same server/workstation configuration like we do, or at least not completely. I'll be able to cripple some minor systems like doors, alarms, internal comms etcetera but engines or weapons are for all intents and purposes 'hardwired' through key areas like the bridge or engineering. It's also why we can't just find a terminal somewhere near the docking bay and download their entire database."

"A curious configuration," commented Zarah.

"Most likely it's a defense left over from their war ten thousand years ago," shrugged McKay. "The Lanteans may not have been all that good at physical warfare but they were smart. I can see them employing Cyberwarfare tactics to great effect. This also means that once we equip our ships with AIs we won't be able to use our Cyberwarfare suites against the Wraith to any great effect, unlike against the Goa'uld. And we know how effective that strategy was during the attack in January."

The three Pegasus natives had no idea what the Terrans were talking about and Teyla made that abundantly clear. "What?"

"Oh, a few months ago a rogue Goa'uld System Lord named Anubis attacked Earth," replied Sheppard offhandedly as he began his landing. "He had thirty ships, we had three. We were able to cripple or destroy half his fleet using Cyberwarfare attacks and the rest were taken care of through a combination of direct attacks by our ships, a trio of surface to orbit nuclear strikes and the use of Atlantis' docking platform in Antarctica."

That caught Cowen's attention. "Docking platform?"

"Yeah, Atlantis was built on Earth almost three and a half million years ago. Earth or 'Terra' as the Alterans called it was their homeworld, or at least that what we believe based upon available evidence," added McKay.

"Then you…," stuttered Tyrus.

"Yep, we're their descendants," replied Sheppard smugly. Technically it was a half-truth as only a small portion of Earth-born humans carried the genetic legacy passed down from the evacuees that fled Atlantis but the Genii didn't need to know that.

Cowen was still processing that when the Jumper touched down, a slight bump making it through the dampeners. "Ok we're here," commented Sheppard as he powered down the smallcraft. Unlike Terran spacecraft, Puddlejumpers employed vacuum energy storage systems, not unlike a miniature, rechargeable ZPMs. While it could keep the ship running for centuries it was best not to waste energy that would later have to be replenished by the temporary reactors back on Atlantis.

The group checked their weaponry one more time, the Genii's primitive machine pistols clunking noisily. Meanwhile the Atlantis team was affixing silencers to their M-12 Locusts. "Don't open fire unless you have no choice," commented Zarah to the two Genii. "Those things will go off like cannons and we'd prefer to keep this covert."

"Then I can assume those devices you attached to your weapons muffle the sound?" asked Tyrus.

"Yes," replied the Israeli smugly.

"Let's get moving," ordered Sheppard, easily falling into a command position. One didn't make major in any branch of the United States Armed Forces without learning how to issue orders and lead people. The group exited the Jumper as if appearing from thin air. After they'd exited, Sheppard activated the remote uplink to the smallcraft's computers and ordered it to close the door.

The group had emerged within a massive hanger bay, dozens of darts sitting docked all around them. "They must have hundreds docked here," commented Teyla in awe.

"I'd guess thousands actually," replied Sheppard. "You only build a ship this big with so many docking facilities if you intend to support a large number of strike craft. This thing puts a Nimitz aircraft carrier to shame."

They continued until finding an access point into the ship proper. Stalking down darkened hallways, Sheppard wasn't surprised at the lack of patrols. Still, the dankness and lack of light was oppressive. "Not a place I'd like to take up permanent residence."

"No kidding," muttered McKay. As they turned a corner the scientist stopped dead. "Oh god." Dozens of people lay cocooned in alcoves along the walls. Some bore the trademark marks of having been fed upon on their chest while others simply looked as if asleep. Approaching one, McKay activated his omni tool and began a complete diagnostic scan. While he publicly derided medicine as 'voodoo', privately he respected those that chose to devote their lives to lessening suffering and any data he collected could help Carson in that endeavor.

"What've you got," asked the major a moment later.

"They appear to be in a coma or at the very least a deep sleep. The cocoons are continuously injecting them with a cocktail of drugs and nutrients like an IV. I'm not a doctor but I can guess whatever that stuff is it's keeping them alive."

"Not a pleasant way to go," grimaced John, "but we need to keep moving. Where to next?"

"The computer room should be just down that corridor," replied Cowen with a frown. This place was getting to him as well.

"Ok, Zarah, Teyla, Tyrus; stay here and hold down the fort. Cowen, McKay; you're with me. Move out."

The group split in two as Sheppard advanced. It only took a few moments before they came to their destination. "This is it," announced Cowen, "but the ship's plans I memorized didn't include instructions on how to operate this door."

"If we blow it it'll make too much noise," commented Sheppard.

"I guess I'll find another way," replied McKay. Activating his omni tool, he was able to quickly find the pseudo-organic circuitry near the door and interface with the local systems. While organic in nature, the Wraith still employed a binary programming language and while odd, the adaptive software he'd received from Tali, originally designed to interface with the far more sophisticated organic systems belonging to the Collectors and Reapers, allowed the scientist to quickly interface with the door and override the locking mechanism. With a slithering noise the hatch parted.

Entering the room, the trio quickly moved to the large console in the center and began to work. "How long's this going to take?"

"I'm working as fast as I can," replied McKay as he interfaced the dart's data recorder with the console. Tapping away at his omni-tool, he began uploading his intrusion package as he began downloading the ship's database. "Well I've already downloaded their starcharts into the dart's black box but the database will take a little more time."

"How much more?" asked Sheppard impatiently.

"It's over two hundred exabytes in size. That's almost half of the total storage capacity of every computer on Earth. That said I should be done the download in about three minutes," he replied, watching the progress bar creep towards one hundred percent. Truthfully Rodney was still amazed that his omni-tool which appeared to be little more than a wristwatch had such storage capacity.

"Fine, what about your additions?" asked the major.

"The package has completed deployment. Their internal security systems are offline, we have remote access to all doors and their intraship communications have been coopted."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that they don't realize anything is wrong. If I just shut those systems down they'd notice a problem and investigate. Instead I've uploaded a VI that is filtering, in real time, all intraship communication for signs that we've been detected. That way they won't notice a problem with their systems but we retain the advantage," replied the scientist smugly.

"Cool," replied the major before a thought crossed his mind. "Could you plant a series of 'sleeper' program into their command and control systems?"

"Depends, what do you want them to do?" asked the scientist, confusion clear.

"If we could remotely shut this thing's engines and long range communications down, we could possibly capture it and rescue the people trapped aboard," began the major, a plan forming in his mind. "Also, it would be best if we could prevent the automatic systems from reviving the Wraith in hibernation. That way we get the ship, rescue the people and still have plenty of sleeping aliens to study."

"I hope you're not planning a vivisection or alien autopsy," commented McKay in a queasy tone.

"No, but they would still be invaluable as subjects of scientific inquiry," replied the officer. "What do you think?"

"Well I told you before; if we want to access any of the primary systems we have to find an engineering space or the bridge. There I could do what you ask but those areas are pretty heavily guarded."

Cowen listened to the conversation with something approaching awe. Here they were, casually talking about taking over a Wraith Hiveship as if it were a simple trading mission. "You can't be serious. What makes you think you can pull this off?"

"Well we'd need reinforcements from Earth," replied Sheppard. "Come to think of it, McKay can you implant a virus that will cause this ship to transmit its location over subspace, just in case it takes off before we can launch our little 'boarding action'?"

"Sure but again I'll need access to their primary systems. External communications are considered a major system according to the system directory."

"OK then we have a plan," replied the major with a grin. "Sumner is either going to shoot me or give me a metal for this one."

"Actually he'll probably shoot you WITH a metal for this plan," grinned McKay. A beep from his omni-tool indicated the download had completed. "I'm finished here. I think we should head for…," he began before the comm interrupted him.

"Major, this is Zarah. We've been discovered."

"Understood. What's your status?"

"We've dealt with them but we have a bit of a problem here," began the woman, a low moaning filtering over the channel. "One of the cocooned people has woken up and I've currently got my sidearm pressed against Tyrus' head and his is pointed at the man in question. Requesting backup."

Sheppard sighed at this. Why oh why did this kind of crap keep happening to him? By the look on Cowen's face he agreed with that sentiment. "Roger that, on our way."

The threesome made their way back down the passageway towards the other half of the team. Upon arrival they found the scene was exactly as described. "Stand down, both of you," ordered Sheppard, Cowen reluctantly nodding in agreement. Personally he agreed with his subordinate that the woken human was a threat and should be eliminated. But Sheppard was unlikely to agree.

Turning to the moaning human, he began, "Sir, my name is Major John Sheppard of the United States Air Force. We're going to get you out of there but we need you to calm down first. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, yes thank you," replied the man.

Turning to McKay, John was unsurprised to find the scientist already had his omni-tool active and scanning. "Well?"

"Just a minute and… got it!" exclaimed the Canadian. The webbing surrounding the imprisoned human began to retract and release him.

"Thank you so much," repeated the rescued human. "My name's Rosni, Rosni Trax of Sateda."

That brought Teyla up short. "Sateda's been culled?"

"Yes, almost six years ago. I was among a group of survivors that hid in underground shelters during the attack along with my… oh by the Ancestors you have to help her!"

"Who," asked Sheppard, following the young man's gaze towards another cocoon nearby, this one housing a young woman. "Her?"

"She's my little sister. We were captured alongside each other. Please, everyone else I know is either dead or scattered across the galaxy. I can't lose her!"

Nodding, Sheppard approached the cocoon, McKay already interfacing with the chamber. The scientist could easily understand Rosni's insistence. Jenny may have been a pain in his ass for most of his life and he certainly didn't agree with her choice of family over her career but he'd do anything to make sure she was safe, even if it meant his life. "This might take a few minutes. She's pretty far under so I'll have to ease her out of it."

The next few minutes were tense but with a faint moan the young woman awoke. Jesni's first sight was that of her brother, looking down at her from outside her prison with a smile. "Hi there sis, we're going to get you out of there."

"Rosni…"

The sounds of boots hitting the hard floor cut off anything further she had to say. A Wraith patrol rounded the corner and immediately took aim at the intruders. Having been drawn by unusual readings indicating several malfunctions in the cocoon systems, they were more than ready for any feeble attempts that the humans of this galaxy could raise against them.

Unfortunately the patrol soon found themselves on the losing side of the engagement. Sheppard and his teammates opened fire on the alien forces, shredder rounds ripping huge bloody holes in their opposition. While the Wraith may have possessed almost supernatural regenerative abilities, even those couldn't compensate for the damage a hypersonic projectile specifically designed to rend flesh could cause.

Shredder ammunition was somewhat unique among the various types of ammunition that mass accelerator weaponry could employ. Unlike cryo, incendiary, warp or disruptor ammo, shedder rounds weren't surrounded by anything but rather were a modification to the projectile itself, much like armor piercing ammo. The projectile was made of an extremely malleable composite material that begins to deform the instant it leaves the barrel, spreading out and flattening. At one meter, the projectile reaches its maximum size with a diameter roughly equivalent to that of a baseball and becomes extremely brittle. While this compromised the projectiles' aerodynamics and shortened its maximum effective range, at close to medium range combat situations it was lethal to unarmored or lightly armored targets, especially considering that it would shatters into razor sharp fragments on impact.

Against such firepower, the Wraith in charge of the patrol quickly realized he would need reinforcements and immediately called out for them. Only static answered his calls and indeed he quickly realized that the alarms that should've automatically activated during such a security breech were suspiciously silent. He was about to run for help but he felt an impact against his head and then nothing.

Sheppard sighted down his M-96 Mattock assault rifle as the last of the Wraith fell, their entrails coating the nearby walls. Cowen stood nearby stunned at the sheer damage their weapons had caused against the Wraith and his mind flashed back to what Zarah had said during their intrusion on the bunker. 'Craters in my men's chests indeed.'

"Zarah, clean this up as best as you can," ordered the major. The Israeli compacted her Locust and drew her Phalanx, systematically discharging three arc disruptor shots into each of the dead aliens which promptly disintegrated. The coolness and detachment at which she went about her task sent a shiver down John's spine and not for the first time did he wonder just how many people she'd killed in her life.

"Well as I was saying earlier," began McKay after the last Wraith was disposed of, "I think our best target is the hyperdrive core. It shouldn't be too heavily guarded as the ship is grounded and the drive is offline but I should have the access I need."

"Sir?" asked Zarah.

"Just a few going away presents," he replied with a forced grin.

"Right," she replied, knowing she'd get a more detailed explanation later. "How far do we need to go?"

Consulting his map one more time, Rodney replied, "About six hundred meters aft. It's on this deck."

"Let's go then," ordered the major. The original six members of the team and the two Satedans began their trek towards their goal. Fortunately the hanger was along the way and allowed them to drop the two off at the Puddlejumper. For most of the journey thereafter, they were able to make steady progress. Then things took a turn for the worse.

Turning a corner, they came face to face with a large patrol. While the Terrans were able to handle themselves and their armor made them more or less immune to all but concentrated stunner fire, the numbers were too many and inevitably one of them went down.

"COWEN!" shouted Tyrus as his leader dropped to the ground. Any attempt to retrieve the unconscious man was rendered futile moments later as reinforcements arrived, some stopping to carry him off.

"We have to go," yelled Sheppard over the gunfire. "We have a mission to accomplish!"

"He's our leader!" replied Tyrus. "I can't abandon him."

"We're not but we have priorities. I promise you we won't leave him behind but we can't get to him right now."

Tyrus wanted to argue but he realized the truth in Sheppard's statement. More and more Wraith began flooding the hallway and things went from bad to worse. John reached back and drew his heavy weapon; one that he'd hoped wouldn't be needed on this mission. A loud whine rose above the gunfire followed by a resounding clunk.

The explosion incinerated most of the remaining Wraith and collapsed the nearby bulkheads allowing debris from the deck above to fall into and block the corridor. The M-920 Cain wasn't a weapon to be taken lightly and when used aboard a spacecraft, even a grounded one could cause an extreme amount of damage.

"Shit," muttered the major as he inspected the damage. "Come on, we'll need to find another way around."

Backtracking led them to another corridor and passed the hyperdrive. Taking a moment to implant the sleeper programs, the team followed the tracking signal of Cowen's headset deeper into the ship. Almost fifteen minutes later they found him right where Sheppard had expected to find him: the Queen's chambers. Already they could see the female Wraith stalking around the Genii leader, gloating as she forced him to his knees. Sheppard pulled back to formulate a strategy to rescue the man but Tyrus wasn't so willing to wait.

With a feral scream the Genii burst into the room and emptied half his clip into the Wraith woman as he dove behind a nearby console. The nearby guards immediately opened fire but Sheppard and Zarah quickly took them down. As the last guard fell, Tyrus rushed to his leader, helping the man stand.

"You do not know what you have done," growled the Wraith Queen at their feet.

"Um, Rodney, I suggest you activate those overrides on the stasis systems," muttered Sheppard as their omni-tools began blaring warnings.

Tapping away, Rodney activated several viruses that immediately crashed numerous systems. Among them were the safety protocols on the Wraith stasis systems. Above them, the awakening Wraith began convulsing, their reanimation sequences malfunctioning. Watching their displays, the team could only standby as at first one, then two then dozens of newly awoken life signs began to wink out, the bodies above falling silent as they died.

"Shit," cursed the scientist a moment later.

"What is it Rodney?"

"I wasn't able to shut down their long range subspace transceiver quickly enough. It was able to send off one last transmission."

Sheppard could already feel the curse forming on his tongue. Instead he pushed it back down and asked the question to which he really didn't want an answer. "What does it say?"

"Only one word: awaken."

"Oh no," stuttered Tyrus. "No, no, nonononono…"

"We woke them up," said Cowen, his face going pale. "We've brought about the Culling."

"Rodney, lockdown every last section of this ship. NOW!" bellowed Sheppard.

The scientist was already scrambling to comply before the major had finished his order. Door after door began closing cross the massive vessel trapping the surviving patrols in their sections. Accessing life support, Rodney began to take measures to deal with the patrols. While some sections would need to be cleared out by hand due to the presence of captured humans, many other Wraith were not so lucky. Unable to simply vent the targeted compartments due to the fact that they were in atmosphere, Rodney chose the opposite, over pressurizing the compartments and crushing their inhabitants under over a hundred atmospheres of pressure.

"Done! I've managed to eliminate all but a few of the Wraith. Unfortunately they're in compartments with cocooned humans and I can't do much about them."

"How many are we talking about?" asked Sheppard.

Consulting the internal sensors, the scientist replied, "About a hundred scattered in sixteen groups of no more than ten at the most."

"Then we need to take them out," said John before he turned to the two traumatized Genii. "Listen, you fucked up and bad but we don't have time for your bullshit right now. So get it together," he bellowed; his anger and contempt clear as day. Bringing them along had been a bad idea and one he knew he'd regret for the rest of his life.

"Right," said Cowen after a moment. "Lead the way."

Over the next two hours, the group systematically hundred down and eliminated the remaining Wraith. With their almost complete control over the ship's systems, they were able to lure the enemy forces into traps, separating them from their human shields and cutting them down one by one. While six people were insignificant compared to the hundred or so surviving Wraith, their inability to communicate or coordinate with each other proved to be their downfall. One by one the sixteen groups were exterminated until none remained.

"That's the last of them," said McKay after consulting the internal sensors again.

"Let's get to the Jumper and back to Atlantis. I want this whole ship searched bow to stern for any survivors the sensors might've missed," said Sheppard. "Then we can deal with you two," he continued, looking at the Genii with pointed disgust. "This is what happens when you don't follow the chain of command."

Cowen and Tyrus could only hang their heads in shame. They'd trained from birth to be soldiers but this mission had taught them that they were only fooling themselves.

They'd screwed up and in doing so; they'd brought about the apocalypse.

* * *

"Incoming wormhole," announced Chuck. "It's Major Sheppard's IDC."

'That's not what was supposed to happen,' thought Weir as she moved to the nearby balcony. Moments later the Jumper emerged and ascended into the bay above. By the look on the major's face, something had gone terribly wrong.

It didn't take them long to make it to the briefing room and explain what happened.

"Un-fucking-believable," cursed the colonel. "Of all the stupid fuckups."

Cowen could only stand there and take the abuse. Sure, Sumner hadn't been thrilled about the major's deviation from the mission plan but he had, had operational control and Sheppard was well within his rights to take advantage of an opportunity. Indeed his plan had worked and they were in control of an entire Wraith Hiveship, its docked cruisers and its compliment of smallcraft and strike craft. But the Genii, they'd fucked up badly and screwed over the entire galaxy in the process.

"I'm sorry," said Tyrus after almost a minute of pregnant silence. "I didn't think…"

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. "NO SHIT SHERLOCK!" bellowed Sheppard, beating Sumner to the punch. "You didn't think of the consequences of your actions and look what happened! Wraith vessels are designed to send out emergency transmissions if their queen dies you idiot! Even a fucking child could figure that out!"

"Ok that's enough," interrupted Weir. "We can play the blame game some other time and indeed I am extremely disappointed in this outcome but that doesn't change the facts. The Wraith have awoken and soon they'll begin their cullings. We need to prepare for that and unfortunately we still need this alliance."

That brought Cowen up short. They were still needed? "What…?"

"You know this galaxy better than we do," replied the diplomat simply. "While I don't like it, we will have to work together to save as many people as possible. But don't think for a moment that we've forgiven you for your mistakes. But that is for another time and place. For now I suggest you return to your homeworld and tell your people what happened." Gesturing to the pair of Marines guarding the Genii, Weir turned back to Sumner.

The two natives were led out of the room towards the Stargate. As the naquadah ring began its dialing sequence, Teyla approached them. "You are not the people I thought you were," she said sadly. "I believed you to be honorable and I told these people that you could be trusted. You've made me into a liar today. Worse your advocacy of the murder of Rosni, your ignoring of Major Sheppard's orders to wait for a plan to rescue your leader. You awoke the Wraith!"

"I'm sorry," pleaded Tyrus.

"I cannot forgive you for what you have done Tyrus," said the Athosian woman. Normally Teyla was an understanding person but this time… "Your actions will lead to the deaths of millions. If I never see you again Tyrus, it will be too soon." Turning, Teyla walked away and Tyrus reacted as if she'd slapped him.

As the wormhole opened, Cowen turned to his second, "Come, we have much work to do."


	16. Chapter Thirteen The Continuation of Pol

**Chapter Thirteen – The Continuation of Politics**

_Oval Office, White House_

_Washington DC_

_September 29, 2004_

When he'd first contemplated running for office, Henry Hayes had known that should he be elected he'd have the weight of the country on his shoulders. He'd entered the race believing that he was ready for the responsibility of being the 'Leader of the Free World'; the most powerful person on the planet. He'd served his country as a member of the Air Force, served four terms in Congress and he had the drive, the experience and the determination to serve in the highest office in the land.

However being the leader of the Terran Stargate Alliance and having responsibility for the fate of two galaxies on his conscience was something that certainly hadn't been in the brochure. So every morning since that fateful day almost a year earlier, he'd stop himself on the West Colonnade just outside the Oval Office and taken a deep breath, psyching himself up for the coming flood of bad news that was his Presidential Daily Brief. His body man Charlie Wilson had long since learned not to ask if he was alright.

He already knew the answer.

With a final deep sigh, Hayes entered the office, greeted by his usual assortment of advisors and secretaries. By the looks on their faces the news wasn't much better than it had been the day before.

"So I take it the world is going to hell in a handbasket as usual?" commented Hayes as he practically flopped into one of the armchairs in the centre of the room.

"Pretty much sir," replied Nancy Alexander, National Security Advisor as the room sat down. "Where do you want to start?"

"China," replied Hayes as usual.

"They're doing pretty much the same as they've done for the past few months," replied his liaison to the State Department, Jason Barrows. "According to our sources they took at least seven hundred more protestors into custody overnight; mainly from Shanghai and Beijing."

"What's that make; a hundred and seventy thousand in six months?" asked Hayes in disbelief.

"One eighty actually," replied Nancy with a grimace. That was a lot of innocent people sent to the 're-education' camps, many who wouldn't be returning home. "They Chinese people aren't happy with the colossal miscalculation the central party made when it came to disclosure." Indeed the People's Republic's handling of the aftermath of Anubis' attack had been nothing short of a political and public relations disaster. Almost before the dust had settled, China had all but demanded, publicly on international television no less, that the Stargate and all alien technology be handed over to them, citing the 'incompetence' of America preventing the attack.

Initially the Russian Federation had used its far greater influence over the Stargate Program to backup China's demands but it hadn't proven enough. Great Britain, Germany, Japan, Israel, Canada and the executive council of the European Union had put their considerable political weight behind the United States and two weeks later the Russians had withdrawn their support to pursue closer relations with the newly formed alliance. Abandoned by their erstwhile allies and out of diplomatic capital, the Chinese had found themselves out in the cold and all but expelled from the increasingly irrelevant Gate Alliance Treaty.

"That's not the only problem China's facing," continued Barrows. "General Motors will be announcing on Friday that they're beginning a phased withdrawal of their manufacturing from China and Southeast Asia."

That brought a round of shock to room. China was GM's second most important market behind the US. "Why would they do that?" asked Hayes is disbelief. It had been widely accepted within the political circles he'd been a part of that the opening up of trade with China by the Nixon Administration had been one of the worst mistakes of the twentieth century, costing millions of Americans their jobs to outsourcing. That a major corporation like GM would pull out of China, a situation that saved them hundreds of millions of dollars a year in manufacturing costs pushed the boundaries of what the president could accept. Idly he considered that his staff were pulling a prank on him.

"They're afraid that the rising political instability in the region could lead to major supply problems down the road. It's important to note that this is the first major American corporation to take such a drastic step but they certainly didn't start the precedent given that many smaller businesses have been doing much the same for months now. Also one has to consider that the Chinese are making it increasingly difficult to do business over there as payback for the disclosure fiasco, regardless of how much damage it's doing to their economy."

"How many jobs is that going to cost them?" asked Joshua Roberts, Hayes' Chief of Staff.

"Over the next year China will lose an estimated two hundred thousand manufacturing jobs either from GM plants directly or their suppliers. The ripple impact on other industries is next to impossible to predict. In addition the region wide impact is expected to be another hundred thousand jobs lost, most of which are in Vietnam, Cambodia and the Philippines. The up side is that most of those jobs will be coming back to North America and the impact on both Japan and South Korea is expected to be minimal, at least for the foreseeable future."

"Well at least there's a silver lining," commented Hayes. "I take it our release of improved robotics technology was responsible for that decision."

"Yes sir," replied Barrows with a satisfied smirk. He himself was a native of Detroit and had personally born witness to the economic devastation outsourcing had caused to both his friends and his father. "A factory manned by fifteen people here can replace a factory employing hundreds in China with the new tech and if it's made here then they don't have to pay for their goods to be shipped over; which is getting pretty expensive in and of itself. What's more is that robots don't strike, can work twenty-four seven and don't need to be paid or given health benefits."

"Good," replied Hayes. Personally he couldn't care less if China sunk into the sea after the shit they'd pulled. "However I am concerned that if China's economic problems continue to worsen we might have another Germany circa 1933 on our hands."

"It's not inconceivable," commented Alexander. "A radical government takes power, which isn't too far from who leads that country already, and orders a massive increase in military spending. It would certainly boost them out of their economic problems, at least in the short term and once they have that kind of force projection capability, they'll feel increasingly tempted to use it."

"They couldn't be stupid enough to go up against us, could they?" asked Roberts.

"No, but there are other nations in the region not so well defended," replied Hayes grimly. The notion of an expansionistic China conquering Southeast Asia wasn't something he wanted to think about. "And don't forget, China's communist leaders have never taken criticism well; criticism that will be plentiful from their neighbours as the economic situation in the region continues to deteriorate."

"Jesus, can we do anything to prevent that?" asked Roberts.

"I'm not sure that we should," offered Alexander with a frown. "We've spent the last five and a half decades playing 'world police' and we haven't exactly seen a good return on our investments. We've become reviled in almost every country we've tried to help, it's cost us a fortune and Arlington is filled with soldiers who died protecting people who didn't want them there in the first place and would've gladly shot them in the back given half a chance. China and the rest of Asia have made their own beds and now they have to lie in them. While I don't like the idea of the entire region falling under Beijing's control the fact is that anything we might attempt would probably backfire on us. Besides we have more important things to worry about."

"I agree," said Hayes, bringing that debate to an end. "Let's move on. India."

"Secretary Hutchinson yesterday obtained a firm commitment from India for one hundred special forces operators from their Naval MARCOs for the upcoming reinforcements to Atlantis," announced Tim Waters, the Department of Defence's liaison.

"Well it's about time," enthused the president. "And what did Miles have to promise them in return?"

"The Indians were primarily interested in trading with us for a steady supply of trinium sir."

"For what purpose?" asked Hayes.

"According to the Indians they want it for construction of mega-structures," replied Waters with a shrug. "It makes sense in the abstract sir. India has a population of one billion crammed into a piece of land a third the size of the US. They need to begin constructing archolgies to house their people if they want to bring their standard of living up to anywhere near the same levels we enjoy. They also want trinium for several civilian projects relating to energy production and transportation and have agreed to a rigorous monitoring regime to ensure they don't misuse what they receive."

Hayes thought that over for a moment before nodding in agreement. As long as they didn't begin plating their tanks with the stuff he could deal with the political fallout internationally. Still, China and Pakistan would scream bloody murder. "That seems acceptable. The Middle East," continued the president.

"Afghanistan is proceeding as expected," began Commander Kate Harper, liaison to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. "Our new strategy is working and we've all but crushed the insurgency and the Taliban. That said sir, there's the insurgency and then there's stabilizing the country."

"And the difference is commander?" asked Hayes with an amused smile. While she was new to the building, Harper was someone he already respected for her directness and bluntness.

"Put simply, Afghanistan was mishandled by the previous administration. Even after the recent round of arrests, corruption is still rife everywhere. The Afghan National Army is under equipped and poorly trained and the national police are as likely as the criminals they're supposed to catch to break the law. While we might've drastically improved the infrastructure and security situation over the past year, Afghanistan is still a long way from being able to function on its own."

"How long do the Joint Chiefs anticipate we need before we can begin a drawdown in troop levels?" asked Roberts, dreading the answer.

"If everything goes according to plans, which is to say unlikely, then we can begin withdrawing a limited number of troops in mid to late 2005, maybe early 2006. That said no plan survives contact with the enemy so the Chiefs have instructed me to make it clear that in their professional opinion, the US will probably be in Afghanistan into early 2007."

Hayes let out a long sigh at that news, his head falling back on the headrest. Those troops were needed elsewhere and public opinion was turning against the war. "What about Iraq?" inquired Hayes of the 'other' war.

"The situation is both more complex and simpler at the same time," began Harper. "It's simpler as that war was better managed by the Bush Administration and therefore Iraq is less of a mess. Infrastructure construction is proceeding apace and we've employed similar tactics as those used in Afghanistan to cripple the insurgency and the remnants of Saddam Hussein's Ba'ath Party. However unlike Afghanistan, Iraq is not tribal by nature, at least not the extent the Afghans are. The nation is separated into several very powerful factions that were united in their hatred of the previous administration. With the Ba'athists gone, old grudges have resurfaced…"

"And we're looking at the beginnings of what could become a civil war," concluded the president with another long sigh. "So our troops have become glorified peacekeepers then?"

"Essentially yes sir," said Barrows. "Until a functional democratic government can convene in Baghdad, one that has the power to not only make but also enforce their decisions, the factions have no recourse to settle their disputes other than armed conflict. Until that can happen, Iraq will need a foreign presence or it will collapse."

"And Iran will hoover up the pieces," added Roberts with a grimace.

"Them and Saudi Arabia," replied Barrows.

"What about the rest of the Middle East?" asked Hayes.

"They mainly have two problems at the moment," replied Nancy, reasserting her general authority over the meeting's advisers. "The first is the announcement of the New America Energy Project."

Hayes grinned at that. The NAEP was something he was exceedingly proud of and had personally shepherded through Congress. The plan, put simply, was to take advantage of new, off-world technologies available following disclosure to finally free the United States from its reliance of petroleum. It called for a radical retrofit to the nation's energy grids, both urban and rural, the construction of deuterium fusion and neutrino-ion reactors and the drastic expansion in the use of solar, wind, geothermal, tidal and low-impact hydroelectric energy production to replace all coal, oil, natural gas and nuclear fission plants by 2015. In concert the plan also included the release of advanced hydrogen production, storage, transport and fuel cell technologies, wireless energy transmission techniques and advanced energy storage mediums to automotive, aerospace and agricultural equipment manufacturers to make hydrogen and electric vehicles a true alternative to propane, gasoline, diesel and kerosene.

"And what possible problem could they have with that?" asked the president of the relatively junior state department liaison with a shit eating grin.

"Well sir," replied Barrows with an uncomfortable shuffle, knowing he was being baited but seeing no way out. "Their economies are primarily reliant on the oil industry for income. If we start using less oil then…," he trailed off.

"Tough shit," replied Hayes. "They're been extorting us for decades and the gravy train is about to derail," he said, taking a moment before continuing, "I think there was a badly mixed metaphor in there somewhere."

"Yes sir," said the diplomat, clearly eager to move on. "Their second concern is our inclusion of Israel in the alliance while we've excluded any Arab nation. They're afraid of what an Israel armed with advanced technology might do to them."

"You mean what the nation they tried to destroy the day after its founding might do?" countered the president. "Relay to them that I've already discussed this with Prime Minister Zahavy and he's agreed to take no action against any of Israel's neighbours using the advanced technologies provided through the alliance, including Israel's new Saratoga class mothership, without provocation." Hayes knew that response would do absolutely nothing to quiet Damascus, Tehran or Riyadh but he was past the point of caring. The pettiness coming out of the Middle East continued to astonish him, especially after disclosure, and he refused to be a party to it anymore.

"Understood sir," continued Barrows. "There's also Iran to consider. Though officially they're continuing their policy of decrying Israel and the United States as 'western, Zionist, evil, corrupt…' etcetera, privately they've begun putting out feelers to see if it's possible to improve relations with us."

Hayes was surprised by that. China hadn't been the only nation to make unrealistic requests in the wake of disclosure. Iran had joined North Korea and Myanmar in demanding full access to the Prometheus and the Normandy three weeks after Anubis' attack. The sheer arrogance they put forward in their official communiqués was staggering to the then new president. Henry wasn't proud to admit that he might've overreacted a bit and was caught on record spewing a stream of curse word riddled vitriol towards the three 'rogue' nations. Needless to say relations with the countries in question were quite tense at the moment. "Iran has approached us to what… apologize for invading our embassy and holding our people hostage for a more than a year? Or for all the subsequent insults and baseless acquisitions they've levelled against us? Or how about their aid to the insurgency in both Iraq and Afghanistan that has led to the deaths of dozens of our soldiers?"

"Their motives aren't exactly a secret sir," replied Roberts. "The Ayatollah is scared to death that we'll turn our focus from the stabilizing situations in Iraq and Afghanistan and onto them. He knows that a few out dated Tomcats and whatever else makes up the Iranian military isn't going to be worth jack against Scimitars and Hammerheads. Most of the Middle Eastern powers are probably thinking along the same lines. They're concerned about Israel and potential economic problems sure, but they're really afraid that we'll turn on them in the near future and there isn't much they could do to stop us."

"Good," replied Hayes, drawing looks of surprise from the rest of the room. "Look I'm not about to declare war and conquer the Middle East or anything. In fact I'm actually going to spend most of my first term looking for ways to expedite our departure from the region. But if their fear is what keeps them from doing anything truly idiotic, let the Arab nations continue to live under that misconception. It'll only make our lives easier. Next."

"The European Union is beginning to show signs of instability," replied Barrows. "Newly inducted members such as Cyprus, the Czech Republic, Hungary and Poland are concerned about their being left out of the alliance while their Western European cousins are granted free access to off world technologies."

"I suppose we could agree to back those nations for provisional membership," decided Hayes after a moment of thought. "We have been trying to bring the former Warsaw Pact nations into NATO since the fall of the Soviet Union and the alliance is primarily composed of NATO nations anyway. So long as we leave the Balkans out of it for now. They're not stable enough to be granted access to off-world technology. We should also probably approach Turkey and some of the Central Asian nations like Kazakhstan and Georgia in the near future. Better they're on our side than China's."

"Yes sir," agreed Barrows with a nod. "Well that pretty much covers earthbound concerns for today."

"Good, let's move on."

"Yes sir. Ba'al attacked another one of Amaterasu's worlds last night," began Colonel Davis. He'd more or less become the Pentagon's briefer on all off-world matters and in his opinion it was a hell of a lot better gig than being the one that everyone turned to for disaster management. "The Jaffa Rebellion reported the conflict to us at 0223 Zulu. Apparently it was only a minor attack by a small task force but it was successful in capturing the world in question, designated M2X-893. It was only a minor mining colony but these days any source of raw materials is vital to the System Lords."

"It looks as if they may finally be coming to their twilight," commented Hayes in an amused tone. "Still, Ba'al remains a fairly major threat to us and if those posturing egomaniacs are finally done away with then he could and most likely would turn his attention to our protectorates."

"Plans are already being made for such an eventuality. With the awakening of the Wraith in Pegasus we're accelerating development of field deployable orbital defence platforms," reported Davis. "They're calling the first ones the 'Firefly' class," he grinned. Geeks. "Designs should be finalized within three weeks and we should have a fully ready design within six. They won't be able to take much of a pounding but their manoeuvrability and stealth will make them a nightmare to eliminate and they're designed to be deployed in large numbers so even the loss of a few dozen in rapid succession won't compromise a planet's defences."

Hayes was relieved to hear that. Protecting Earth was of course his primary concern but the news that they'd be able to field defence platforms as far away as Lantea with minimal difficulty was promising. At the moment the biggest problems lay not in the first phases of Earth's own orbital defence grid but in the latter segments that called for medium sized automated platforms, heavy battle and strike craft base stations and even orbital fortresses; all armed with nuclear weaponry. This to say nothing of the rapidly growing spaceborne naval forces, plans for military bases on Luna, Mars and the Galilean Moons and even strategically placed nuclear minefields coving likely intra-system approaches. The Chinese were making his life hell in regards to the Outer Space Treaty's nuclear non-proliferation provisions. Personally Hayes believed it was payback for their exclusion and he was close to withdrawing the US from the treaty entirely.

"Well that covers everything of note today. Has Secretary Clinton finished her plans for the upcoming summit?" asked Hayes, referring to the first of what would hopefully be many interplanetary diplomatic exchanges.

"Yes sir," replied Barrows. "We've received confirmation that the Jaffa Rebellion, the Tok'ra and the Asgard will be sending representatives and we know who those attendees will be. Also we've received confirmation that three of our allies, the Langarans, Hebridans and Galarans will be sending delegates to the summit as well."

"Ok," asked Hayes with more than a touch of excitement, rubbing his hands together. "Who's sending who?"

"The Jaffa will be represented by Masters Bra'tac, Rak'nor and a newcomer named Gerak," replied Barrows, handing out copies of each man's dossier around the room.

"I'm not familiar with Gerak," replied Hayes. He liked to know his enemies, and allies, well.

"He came relatively late to the Rebellion, joining only a few months ago," briefed Barrows. "He rose to power quickly however because of what he brought with him when he joined. As former First Prime of the Minor Goa'uld Montu, he had almost complete authority over his military and Gerak used that to his advantage, placing those loyal to him in key positions. When he killed Montu, he brought a Ha'tak, seventeen Al'kesh and almost six hundred Death Gliders over to the rebellion. By our own standards that doesn't amount to much but to the Jaffa Rebellion that represents a significant portion of their total spaceborne strength. He also represents a more… conservative constituency within the Rebellion."

"How do you mean?"

"Many of the Jaffa don't like us sir," replied Barrows with a shrug. "Members like Bra'tac and Teal'c are a minority; a large one to be sure but a minority none the less. For thousands of years the Goa'uld have taught the Jaffa that they were above humans, better than us. That kind of indoctrination doesn't go away overnight. Some Jaffa fear us as a rising power that in less than a decade has brought the millenniums old Goa'uld Empire to its knees. Some hate us for our increasing power in the galaxy. Some look down on us as an 'inferior' species that isn't worthy to wield what we wield. And some just don't like us on spec. Regardless of their reasons these groups collectively represent a majority within the Rebellion and Bra'tac had to give them a voice at this summit or risk undermining his own powerbase."

"And that voice is Gerak," replied Hayes with a sigh. Politics were truly universal it seemed.

"Yes sir," continued Barrows. "It should also be known that Gerak has been on record for some fairly abrasive anti-Earth rhetoric. My advice sir, if you'll take it, is to watch your back. He's only there to cause problems between us and our real allies."

"Understood," nodded Hayes. It wasn't his first rodeo but he was grateful for whatever intelligence he could get. "What about the Tok'ra?"

"This is their first real diplomatic contact with us since they broke off relations last year sir," replied Davis. "According to their forwarded itinerary, they will be represented by Garshaw of Belote, Selmak-Jacob Cater and Thoran. All of them reside on the High Council and can speak on behalf of Supreme High Councillor Per'sus. Quite frankly sir I'm surprised we're getting members this high up in the Tok'ra hierarchy to participate in this summit. They haven't exactly been playing nice of late."

"What do we know of them?"

"Well Mr. President, Selmak-Jacob Carter is definitely pro-Earth. However from what we've learned his support of us has led General Carter to be ostracized by most of the Tok'ra and Selmak along with him. He's still 'respected'," said Davis, making quotation marks with his fingers, "but we get the feeling he's been pushed out of the decision making process."

"Garshaw is also someone we've had relations with in the past. She's a fair and just negotiator and most likely is being sent as a moderator between the other members of her own delegation as well as the other parties at the summit. That said don't underestimate her. She has one of the largest bounties in Goa'uld history on her head for a good reason."

"Good to know," chuckled Hayes.

"Yes sir," replied Davis with a smile. "The final member is someone we've only had minimal contact with: Thoran. He's most definitely anti-Earth and is most likely there as a Tok'ra counterpart to Gerak. He doesn't like us period."

"Great, why do I get the feeling that this 'peaceful' diplomatic conference will be anything but?" asked the President rhetorically.

"Most likely your experience and wisdom sir," replied Davis.

"And you get an A in brown-nosing Colonel," replied Hayes with a laugh. "Moving on…"

"Yes sir. The Asgard will be sending High Council Leader Penegal, Supreme Commander Thor and their leading geneticist Heimdall. Unlike the Jaffa or Tok'ra delegations, all of the Asgard representatives are definitely pro-Earth. They've also informed us that they will join us at the conference site directly by ship and won't be participating in the pre-summit events."

"That's a shame," interjected Barrows, sarcasm dripping from his words. "I can just see the press salivating at the chance to interview a real live 'Grey' on international television."

"I think that's exactly what they're hoping to avoid," replied Davis with an agreeing nod. "The Asgard have also requested a private meeting with the alliance leadership after the summit. We're not sure what it's about but…"

"I don't see a problem with that," said Hayes. "They're our only real allies out there. I think I can find the time to meet with them and I'm sure the other twenty three Alliance leaders and the President of Russia can also make time in their busy schedule."

"Yes sir," nodded Barrows. He'd relay this to Secretary Clinton immediately and let the fallout of this particular unilateral decision land on her shoulders.

"Continuing on," said Davis. "Langara will be represented by Jonas Quinn. He's recently assumed a position high in the Kelownan government and therefore high within the tripartite planetary council. He is respected by all three governments despite his nationality and we can be sure that any agreements he makes will be given great weight by the governments he represents."

"Hebridan will be represented by Miles Hagan. He recently retired from his position at the head of one of Hebridan's largest conglomerates, Tech Con Group and the Hebridan government more or less drafted him into becoming their only real off-world ambassador. Of note is that he is most definitely not a politician or professional diplomat but a businessman."

"Which makes him in all likelihood the most ruthless man in the room," concluded Hayes. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

"Yes sir," said Barrows, cutting into Davis' briefing. "We also believe that this summit is seen by the Hebridan government as an opportunity to broach trade negotiations with Earth. Hebridan has made several entreaties of late in an attempt to gain access to Earth's markets."

"Something we were more or less prepared for," replied Hayes. "So long as they follow our laws and don't put our own corporations out of business I don't have a problem with a limited Hebridan presence on Earth. Hell with most of our efforts in space being put towards developing our military forces, corporations like Tech Con could pick up a lot of the slack in providing ships and equipment to the civilian sector."

"It's a good idea," commented Roberts. "But I'd like to see companies like Lockheed and Microsoft granted access to Hebridan's markets too."

"That may prove difficult," replied Barrows. "From everything I've read, their domestic markets are extremely competitive. Most likely beyond trade in food and other cultural items; getting into business on that planet will require some sort of miracle."

"There's always the Loop of Kon Garat," said Davis offhandedly. "They use the event to prove new and upcoming technologies. It's put on every year by Tech Con but it's open to participants from other corporations and non-corporate entities."

"Neither of which we are," replied Hayes with a raised eyebrow.

"But they did allow Colonel Carter to participate sir," countered Davis. "That sets a precedent that we can exploit. If the Alliance enters a ship in the race and wins, or even comes close to winning we'll prove our technology to the local population and once we have a foot in the door…"

"Nice," replied Barrows. "Colonel, if you ever decide to leave the service you'd make one hell of a lawyer," he continued, chuckling at the look of disgust that crossed the Air Force officer's face. "I think we should make access to the race a condition of any trade agreement."

"So ordered. Now what about this third planet… um Galor was it?"

"Galar Mr. President or Galara," corrected Davis. "The planet falls under the auspice of the Asgard Protected Planets Treaty. With our increasing involvement in enforcing the treaty, which was part of our agreement with the System Lords, we've been gathering data on the various worlds we are now partially responsible for. Galar was once a Goa'uld slave world that was liberated by the Asgard roughly forty-eight hundred years ago. In that time they've managed to advance to a point roughly fifteen to twenty years beyond where Earth is now, not including our recent technological acquisitions."

"The planet has a population of roughly eight hundred million and unlike Earth they've been unified politically, economically and militarily for almost fifty years. While most of their tech isn't all that remarkable, they have made major leaps forward recently in the field of memory engram research, based on their study of recovered Goa'uld recall devices. It's allowed them to develop the technology to extract, modify and implant whole memories within a person's mind."

"Wait," interrupted Hayes, "are you saying they can manipulate a person's memories like files on a computer?"

"It's more complicated than that sir but in essence yes," replied Davis. "Needless to say this technology has the Pentagon and our allies salivating. With it we could train a pilot or an engineer or anyone in a technically challenging position in weeks instead of years."

"Jesus, no wonder we're inviting them to this conference," commented Roberts. "The question is what do they want in return?"

"Most likely the same as the Langarans," shrugged Barrows, "technology and a signed treaty. We've received similar requests from several other worlds as word of our newfound military strength has spread. There are a lot of worlds out there that are interested in making nice with us now that they believe we can protect them. Langara, Galar and Hebridan are just the most important to us at the moment; Langara for its Naquadria, Hebridan for their technological expertise and trade opportunities and Galar for their memory technology."

"Sounds like we're seeing the beginnings of something like a coalition forming here," commented Hayes.

"Or a federation," added Davis with a grin. Man oh man he was spending too much time with the geeks. "Regardless they are important worlds to us and letting them in on what may prove to be a pivotal diplomatic meeting is a cheap way of currying favour with them."

"I agree but you still haven't told me who'll be representing Galar," grinned Hayes. Most of his meetings managed to get off track rather quickly. Sometimes he wondered if it has his doing…

"Yes sir. Galar will be represented by Doctor Reya Varrick. She's the leading developer of their memory technology and one of their brightest minds."

"An interesting choice," observed the president. "It clearly shows what their goal is at this summit. My guess is that the Galarans are presenting their greatest asset up front, hoping a direct approach will earn our respect."

"A smart if somewhat unconventional tactic," commented Barrows.

"Only a professional diplomat would say something like that," jested Davis, earning a glare from the State Department representative.

"Ok people focus," said Hayes. "As the chairman of this summit, I assume I can bring more than two others?"

"Yes sir but we don't want to overwhelm them. I suggest bringing at most three people with you."

"Then I'll bring Colonel Carter as my technological consultant, Doctor Jackson for his understanding of cultural matters and Commander Shepard as… well as someone I've come to rely on for everything military of late."

That surprised the assembled aids. It was true that Commander Jade Shepard had become a pivotal part of Earth's emerging spaceborne military forces but she and her ship were for all intents and purposes mercenaries in the employ of the USAF. "May I ask why sir? Surely there are other members of the military that are more appropriate."

"I understand your concerns Colonel Davis," replied Hayes. "But Commander Shepard hasn't steered me wrong yet. We trusted her during the negotiations with the Goa'uld. The alliance has trusted her to guide the development of our space going military and I trust her as part of this conference. Besides it's not as if people like Generals Hammond or O'Neill won't be there. They just won't be sitting in on the actual conference itself."

Davis was going to argue before an image of Jack O'Neill sitting in a room full of diplomats crossed his mind, a smile coming unbidden to his face. "No sir, I agree. General Jack O'Neill and diplomacy do not mix."

"Good. Now where exactly are we going to be hosting this little shindig?"

"Plans call for two parts to this sir," began Barrows. "The delegates will arrive through the Stargate in three days. They'll be flown to New York for the usual diplomatic BS and a tour. In the evening they'll arrive in Washington for a formal state dinner. This'll be a big one so we'll be hosting it in the Capital Building, not the White House. The leaders of the Stargate Alliance and the Russian Federation will be in attendance along with their retinues. That'll conclude the first day."

"And where will the actual summit be held?"

"We've put a lot of thought into that question Mr. President," said Barrows. "In the end we've come to the decision that we should go all out for this meeting. As such we've decided that we should hold it on the Citadel."

"I trust we'll not be giving the coordinates to any of the participants," replied Hayes with a frown. "Excepting the Asgard of course."

"That's actually the whole point sir," said Barrows with a grin. "It'll make it clear just what kind of relationship with have with the Asgard when one of their warships shows up. We'll transport the delegates aboard the Nautilus, escorted by the Normandy, Ptolemaeus and Tyco, now that both ships have completed their shakedowns. We'll also make a close pass by our orbital defence fleet of captured Goa'uld motherships, and the view during approach to the Citadel should make it abundantly clear just what kind of power we now possess. We will not be using the Mass Relays for this journey however as we want to keep the network a secret for as long as possible. Neither will we reveal that the Citadel has a Stargate operational to prevent the delegates from getting any 'ideas'."

"Well then it should be one hell of a summit. Let's hope nothing goes wrong," declared Roberts as the meeting began to break up.

"Joshua, you just tempted the Dark Lord Murphy," replied Hayes in an amused tone. "And you know what that means…"

"Damn it sir, I had dinner reservations on the fourth. It's our anniversary and everything."

"Too bad, you're coming. Besides, I hear that there are already some pretty nice restaurants opening on Zakera Ward. I'm sure Shirley will love them."

"I can't believe you're telling me to bring my wife thousands of light years to a massive space station."

"I'm not telling you Joshua. That's an order."

"Why did I ever utter the words 'Hayes for President'?"

"Maybe somebody slipped you something in your Nescafé?" posited the Leader of the Free World.

"That must've been it."

* * *

_Stargate Command_

_Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado Springs_

_October 2, 2004_

Once the gloried frontline command of all things off-world, the facilities within Cheyenne Mountain were slowly fading into unimportance. With a new purpose built facility under construction deep beneath the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range, one that had already attracted the nickname 'Black Mesa', Cheyenne Mountain was slowly being pulled apart; the decommissioning scheduled for just over a year into the future.

However, at least for now and to casual inspection the facility hadn't changed all that much. Such a storied place was destined to receive a special honour. Once the new Stargate Complex was operational Cheyenne Mountain, the entire facility, was to become a museum. From the famed NORAD facilities occupying the upper levels to the current home of the Stargate deep below, the whole facility would soon ring with the laughter of school children and the dour lectures of historians who fancied themselves experts on the true motivations of the men and women who had served here.

While there had been some consideration as to making the Stargate available for public use, the powers that be within the alliance had come to the conclusion that the gate would remain under military control indefinitely. It was simply too much of a hazard for the general public to be granted access and even with its ability to transport personnel and cargo over vast distances instantaneously, it would soon become a logistical bottleneck that would made JFK Airport in New York look like a sideshow by comparison. Put simply, a single, three and a half story tall metal ring could not service the transportation needs of an emerging interstellar empire, civilian or military.

Still these thoughts barely intruded upon the mind of General Jack O'Neill. Standing at the base of the Stargate he took the time to admire the true beauty of the machine before him. More and more his opinion of the Alterans had diminished over the years. One only had to look at the disaster they'd left in Pegasus to begin to think badly of them. But their technological prowess couldn't be faulted, even if they hadn't had a clue how to use what they had to its fullest potential.

The familiar grinding of the gate began, the chevrons around its circumference lighting one by one. A blue explosion followed, halted by the trinium/titanium iris and then by both an energy shield and a kinetic barrier. Security was at an all-time high these days and every possible measure was being taken to keep the planet safe from any possible off-world threat. 'An enemy fleet showing up in orbit has that effect apparently,' snarked the general to himself.

"We're receiving the Tok'ra IDC sir," announced Walter over the intercom.

Sighing, Jack nodded, "Open the iris and lower the shields."

A shimmer dispersed the dual energy barriers and the iris retracted. Jack, even after all these years still could not figure out where the iris panels actually went when retracted. Shaking his head at that thought, and the long winded explanation Sam had given him the last time he'd made the mistake of asking, he turned his attention to the people exiting the event horizon. Smiling at the sight of Jacob, and even more at Anise, his expression sobered a bit at their fellows. Garshaw wasn't someone he trusted but at the same time he didn't exactly distrust her either. She had used them and they had used her; a relationship of mutual exploitation.

His expression darkened at the fourth member of the Tok'ra delegation. He'd not had pleasant dealings with Thoran in the past. He was an agitator and a perfect example of how similar the Tok'ra were to the Goa'uld, no matter how much they themselves denied it. While they preached equality between host and symbiote the truth was far less balanced and the Tok'ra ultimately used their hosts to their own ends. And like the Goa'uld the Tok'ra moved quickly to isolate those among them that didn't conform to the norm of their society, irrespective of experience, accomplishments or their so-called honour. Selmak, supposedly one of the 'oldest and wisest' of the Tok'ra, was a perfect example of that policy. And according to their intelligence Thoran, more than anyone else, had been behind Selmak's fall from grace.

"Welcome to Earth," greeted Jack neutrally. This was his fifth such welcome speech in the past hour and a half. If nothing else, this summit had set a record for scheduling over interstellar distances. Everyone had been on time and in order with no mess-ups, emergencies, disasters or any number of other catastrophic events that had dogged this command over the years. "On behalf of the United States of America and the Terran Stargate Alliance, it is our hope that this summit will further the goal of a peaceful galaxy for us all."

"Thank you general," replied Garshaw with a slight smirk. She could almost smell the discomfort wafting off the man before her as he fulfilled his assigned role of diplomat. Jack O'Neill was most certainly the kind of man who preferred to approach a problem with high explosives rather than a kind word and it showed. Still she had to give him credit; he'd performed exceptionally well. "We share such hopes as well."

"Well now that that's over, how was your trip?" continued Jack in a more casual tone. The formalities had been completed and he could let his shoulders down a bit.

"Short as always," replied Jacob with a slight snort. "Is everyone here?"

"Yeah, the Jaffa arrived about an hour and a half ago followed by the delegations from Hebridan, Langara and Galar."

"And the Asgard?" asked Thoran. Personally he found the whole concept of a 'summit' with this primitive world distasteful but any opportunity to treat with one of the four great races was not something to be squandered.

"They'll arrive at the summit site tomorrow. I trust you've all reviewed your itineraries?"

"Indeed," replied Garshaw. She was actually looking forward to seeing something of this world beyond a concrete bunker for once. "A tour of this 'New York' should prove interesting. Jacob has told me much of it."

"It's a beautiful city," replied the general. "But I'm going to skip the tour."

"Why is that?" asked Thoran in a suspicious, aggravated tone.

"Not that it's any of your business Thoran," replied Jacob with an equal amount a distaste in his voice towards his 'colleague', "but I'm going to take this opportunity to spend some time with my kids and grandchildren rather than take a scripted tour of the city I grew up in from a bunch of politicians."

"I understand," replied Garshaw, attempting to defuse the situation. She'd known that she would spend most of this trip interdicting such verbal battles. Thoran hated Jacob for his 'contamination' of Selmak and Jacob Carter was not one to take being talked down to or patronized lightly. Neither was Selmak and the symbiote was a dangerous enemy to make; something that Thoran had apparently forgotten. "I trust we will see you for dinner?"

"I'm only gone for the afternoon," answered the general, the disrespect absent from his voice when addressing Garshaw. "One doesn't miss a state dinner, especially when your commander in chief invites you," he continued, subtly reminding them that while he'd lived with the Tok'ra for years, he was still a commissioned officer in the Air Force, on detached duty to a foreign power.

"Well now that's all settled, if you could follow me," interjected Jack, not missing his friend's snub, however diplomatically he'd put it. He wanted them gone so he could finish up some paperwork before heading home to get ready for the dinner and catching the transporter to DC.

The group followed, approaching an elevator that would take them to the surface. There had been a decision made not to advertise the Arklight system for the duration of this summit. So rather, the delegations would each be transported by an assault shuttle, specially modified for diplomatic use. It was as much to show off the large shuttlecraft design to the delegates as to hide their access to advanced matter teleportation. And while the Tok'ra already knew about their abilities, they had to treat the various delegations equally. Plus the view on approach to New York should impress upon their 'allies' just who they were dealing with.

"An impressive vessel," said Anise as they approached the helipad. "Clearly not of Goa'uld manufacture or design."

"No, what you're looking at is the Lockheed-Sarif Industries UT-53B-DV Ursus Assault Dropship. We're using the special diplomatic variant for transport during this summit because of security concerns. While it may be rather luxurious inside, it's also heavily armed, armoured and shielded and will be escorted by two F-302B Scimitar Aerospace Superiority Fighters. We're not taking any chances with you," replied Jack. Judging by the look that crossed both Thoran and Garshaw's faces, they'd both understood the double meaning in that statement. No, they were not trusted here.

"We're honoured," said the Tok'ra leader neutrally. This was going to be more difficult than she'd anticipated. Clearly Earth wasn't about to fall in line like addle sheep.

The delegation boarded the large shuttlecraft, surprised by the lack of a pilot and settled in for the half hour trip to New York. No this would not be a fun trip at all.

* * *

"This place is breath-taking," said Bra'tac in awe. Around him he could feel similar reactions in his fellow Jaffa. They were standing on the 'observation deck' of a structure called the Empire State Building. Beyond they could see a panoramic view of this city that defied belief. Regardless of the direction he looked, there were more of these monoliths the Tau'ri called 'skyscrapers'. Further out was the Hudson River upon which hundreds of ships both large and small sailed, including a truly massive vessel called the Theodore Roosevelt, named for one of the greatest leaders of this nation.

It had never really hit him until now just who he'd been dealing with all these years. From his first introduction to the peoples of this world almost seven years earlier outside the charred remains of Teal'c's home to their defeat of Anubis, his impression of the Tau'ri had been coloured by SG-1 and the bunker in which they worked. He'd only ever been outside of the SGC once, on their aircraft that had flown him from the Kennedy Space Centre to Fort Carson after their first defeat of Apophis.

But looking across the colossal city before him he now knew just how powerful these people truly were. He had thought that the City of Chulak was big but here… here was a city of millions stretching to the horizon. Below he could make out thousands of 'cars' traveling on hundreds of kilometres of perfectly aligned roads, crossing titanic bridges and deep into the myriad of tunnels that connected Manhattan to the rest of New York.

"How is this possible?" asked one of the Jaffa delegation, a young warrior named M'zel. "How can such a place function? Surely this must be the largest city in the galaxy."

"Actually it isn't even the largest city on Earth," answered Colonel Davis, their tour guide. "That honour goes to the city of Shanghai in China which has a population of approximately twenty-two million. By comparison, New York has a population of roughly eighteen million. It's also the first city in Earth's history," he lectured to the fascinated Jaffa, carefully not using the politically incorrect term 'human history', "that achieved the status of being considered a 'megacity' or a city of more than ten million. As of today there are twenty five such metropolitan regions on Earth. New York has also been chosen as the location of Earth's first arcology, to be constructed partially over the Long Island Sound in neighbouring Nassau County."

"Arcology?" asked Rak'nor, turning the unfamiliar word over in his mind. "What is that?"

"It's the mixture of the words 'architecture' and 'ecology'. It's a massive structure, far greater in size than any skyscraper that combines residential, commercial and recreational spaces into one building. A person could live, work, play and shop for months or even years without ever leaving the building, facilitating far greater efficiency of movement."

"The planned arcology is named 'Gotham' in honour of a fictional counterpart to New York. The structure will feature a large indoor tropical garden open to the public, a water-level marina for mooring small boats, complete integration with the city's public transportation network and a powerful dome shield generator that will be able to cover an area almost a hundred kilometres in radius. It will be able to comfortably house an estimated one and a half million people and will occupy an area of land roughly twelve kilometres squared. Barring any major delays, it should be completed around 2012 or eight years from now."

Rak'nor's jaw dropped at that. Having learned how the Tau'ri measure distances over the years he knew that, while the building was going to be a truly epic endeavour and so massive as to dwarf even the largest space going vessels, the fact was Colonel Davis wasn't actually talking about a particularly large piece of land. 'And to comfortably house over a million people…,' his mind supplied, 'never mind shield them and this entire city from orbital bombardment'. Right then and there he knew that these people were not to be underestimated and counted his blessings that they considered him to be a close ally.

"What is that?" asked the final member of the Jaffa delegation, Gerak from behind, pointing out towards the ocean.

Following his gaze, Davis recognized what he was referring to. Located a few miles off Edgemere were dozens construction vessels. Even now he could make out the ships as they repeatedly drove massive, five meter wide trinium reinforced steel rods deep into the continental shelf, each measuring almost four hundred meters long. Divided into fifty meter subsections, the pillars were assembled on the fly as they were driven deeper and deeper using a combination of magnetic, hydraulic and mass effect systems.

"Those ships are laying the foundation pillars of what will become a fifteen kilometre long metallic island upon which the new John F. Kennedy Memorial Spaceport will be constructed," replied Davis with pride. In reality the whole thing was being made up on the fly. He'd made a point of keeping himself informed on any major projects and while everything he'd just said was true; the architects and engineers had only gotten as far as designing the artificial island itself, never mind the structures that were to be built on it.

It was seen by the administration as an important way of generating public support for the on-going operations in space. As the populous had calmed down in the wake of Disclosure, there had been mounting pressure to begin opening up space to civilians. With the United States focusing most of its efforts on military expansion there had been little in the way of resources devoted to promoting civilian expansion beyond the atmosphere.

JFK Spaceport would, it was hoped, make it clear that while the US and the rest of the alliance would be focusing on fighting an interstellar war for the foreseeable future, they weren't ignoring the rest of the world. It was also seen as a way of finally fixing the massive air traffic jams that the original JFK routinely caused and freeing up the land that both it and LaGuardia were built upon for more important uses.

"How will all of this be powered?" asked Rak'nor. "Naquadah?"

"No," replied Davis easily. "As part of the recently enacted New America Energy Project, the nearby Indian Point Energy Centre is to become the subject of a major overhaul. There are two nuclear fission reactors on site providing electricity to the surrounding region including New York City itself."

"How powerful is this facility?" asked Gerak, hoping to gain some information on the local infrastructure if it ever becomes necessary to attack.

Davis saw right through this ploy but given the upgrades he saw no harm in answering. "The reactors output roughly twenty times the electricity of a Death Glider's power plant. Overall it's actually not that much you will agree."

"And the new facility?" continued the militaristic Jaffa.

"When completed Indian Point will play host to six deuterium fusion reactors and a pair of neutrino-ion conversion matrices. Nominal output for all reactors combined will be roughly two hundred and eighty three percent the maximum output of an Asgard O'Neill Class Battlecruiser. The facility will be protected by a dedicated shield dome, anti-air defences and a twelve meter tall armoured wall patrolled by armed sentries at all times. Plasma based power conduits will transport energy produced at the facility into the national energy grid, located in armoured tunnels a half kilometre underground, bored out by a combination of matter teleportation and hydraulic, ultrasonic and laser tunnelling machinery. Needless to say we're taking no chances of the facility being overwhelmed and destroyed, especially during an attack when its output is needed to power the shielding domes of nearby cities."

That was exactly what Gerak was afraid of. When this new system came online it would become almost impossible to destroy any of Earth's cities. Not that he'd ever be able to convince sheep like Bra'tac or Rak'nor to attack the Tau'ri. No, they'd become far too enamoured with this world and were willing to cede power to these upstart humans without thought.

"A most impressive and ambitious undertaking," supplemented Bra'tac.

"Thank you," replied Davis with pride. He'd not missed Gerak's attempts to gather information and was eager to move on. "Shall we continue?"

* * *

Miles Hagan was a business man. He'd led Tech Con Group for almost twenty years as CEO, building the consortium into one of the most powerful business concerns on all of Hebridan and her colonies. He was also one of the most respected men in the Hebridan business community for the simple fact that his company had managed to maintain its record profit margins while at the same time performing numerous acts of humanitarian and charitable work. While that was a reward in and of itself; the positive publicity he'd earned for his company hadn't exactly hurt them either. Never mind hosting the Loop of Kon Garat every year.

Still, Hebridan's business world had hit a wall decades ago. There were simply no new prospects to expand to, no new colonies being founded, no new populations desiring their goods. When first contact had been made with Earth it was as if the gods themselves had dropped the greatest gift in history right into their laps. Looking around the advertising that covered every possible surface of Times Square, he knew that in Earth, or at least in the United States of America he'd found a kindred culture for his people to exploit.

Not that he believed it would ever be that easy. Miles hadn't been named as the representative to this summit for nothing. He'd spent many months after their contact with Earth studying their economic systems. By and large he'd come away with the impression of a world far less capitalist that Hebridan. There were far more regulations on business ventures, far more rules and most importantly, a far greater emphasis put on fair competition than back home. Forming a monopoly here wouldn't just be difficult, it would be next to impossible under the current set of laws.

More so Earth, while overall almost a hundred and fifty years behind Hebridan was catching up fast. Really fast. Already he could see the effects of the advanced technology they'd gained access to all around them. Interspersed with the paper billboards and electronic displays were holograms, one hocking something in a narrow bottle called 'Coca-Cola'. Another was showing off the first 'Omni-tool' produced by a company named Sony. And another was advertising an upcoming model of electric vehicle from Mazda.

All of this was small compared to what Hagan's goals were however. Luxury foodstuffs, personal electronics and vehicles were nothing when compared to fighter craft, personal starships and military defence platforms. While Tech Con had a division for almost everything, from capital ship construction to waste disposal bins, they made most of their money supplying the needs of the Hebridan Federal Armed Forces. But here there were numerous defence contractors that were already entrenched both within the militaries and governments of the alliance nations. Corporations like Lockheed-Martin, Boeing, Northrop Grumman, Raytheon, Saukoi and EADS wouldn't take kindly to the new guy trying to muscle in on their territory.

So for now he would bide his time, observe his competition and make whatever inroads he could. Earth was the greatest business opportunity since the development of spaceflight.

And he wouldn't miss out.

* * *

Jonas Quinn had spent almost a year on Earth during his 'exile'. He'd become accustomed to this world and the almost miraculous technology they possessed. Still, standing with the other members of the Langaran delegation overlooking the technological marvel that was the New York Stock Exchange, he found that they could still manage to amaze him. He also had no doubt that this presentation was done intentionally; a subtle reminder of the technology that Earth could offer Langara and an equally subtle reminder of their numerous advantages.

"Jonas," began First Minister Dreylock, leader of the Kelownan Republic and one of the four members of the Langaran Union Council. "Why are they showing us this?"

Jonas stood silent for a moment, considering the question. He had been chosen as a member of the council for his scientific knowledge and his experience in off-world matters. "I think it's a way of showing us what they can offer us. Look around you Sheila. In this room is more computing power than our entire world possesses. And they use it simply to regulate their stock exchange. I think they are saying to us that this could be ours if we work with them."

"What could we possibly offer them Jonas?"

"It's not what we can offer them that has them worried," replied the Langaran scientist, "but rather what we could offer others. You've read the intelligence reports. Already the some of the Lucian Cartel factions have begun approaching us for our Naquadria. Earth doesn't need us anymore for that material; they can produce it themselves in large quantities and far purer than anything we could offer. But in the wrong hands even a few grams of Naquadria could threaten cities. And that is what has the Terrans worried."

"Are you implying that the only reason we've been presented with this opportunity is to ensure our loyalty to Earth," asked Dreylock, somewhat stunned and increasingly both worried and offended. "We are not their vassals."

"I didn't mean it that way first minister," replied Jonas placating. "Rather they seek to make us their close allies. I doubt they would try and take control of our world without a very good reason." He sighed before continuing, "Sheila listen to me. What we could gain from an alliance with this world is far more than we could ever hope to develop on our own in our lifetimes or our children's or grandchildren's. I've seen miracles preformed here that we would've almost called magic but that they consider commonplace. And they're offering to share it with us in exchange for us keeping one of the most dangerous substances in the galaxy under lock and key. I think that's a pretty good bargain, don't you?"

First Minister Dreylock turned her gaze back to the teeming floor below her. What it boiled down to was that Earth was asking them to follow their conscience. Did she honestly think she could trust the Lucians with Naquadria?

"Thank you Jonas. You've given me a lot to think about."

* * *

Doctor Reya Varrick was distinctly uncomfortable. She was scientist and was more at home in a lab or typing away at her computer than playing diplomat. Still the number of times she had to make nice with politicians to keep the funding for her memory research project flowing meant that she had developed all the requisite skills that would serve her here.

Looking across the Hudson River from the torch of the State of Liberty she reflected on what she had seen here and her thoughts on the other delegations to this summit. Of all the peoples represented here, Galar was the closest to Earth; technologically and culturally. They were at best ten to fifteen years ahead of Earth in most regards and like this world, Galar had until recently been divided among various nations. Many wars had been fought before their world had united.

She had met the other delegations and by and large had already formed her initial opinions on them. The Tok'ra struck her as deceitful and untrustworthy. More so, they'd reminded her immediately of the many politicians she'd met in the past or at least Garshaw and Thoran had. The Jaffa came off as arrogant and savage, drunk on their newfound freedom. As an aficionado of history she gave their new 'nation' a decade, maybe two before it fell into civil war and if she was right, Gerak would be the one leading the conservative movement; if he survived that long.

The Langarans were like looking into Galar's past. In a way she envied them. They had united their world with far less bloodshed than Galar had managed, even if they required a Goa'uld System Lord showing up to do so. The Hebridans were capitalists for both good and bad. They weren't here at this summit for political or military reasons but to form trade relationships. That could be good but at the same time she'd read about the worst aspects of capitalism during both Galar's and Earth's industrial revolutions and wondered what Hebridan society was like for the 'have-nots'.

As for Earth itself; one only had to look at this city. In many ways New York reminded her of the Galaran Capital. Skyscrapers stretched well overhead, subways ran below the streets and there was even a massive park in the middle of the city. Cars filled the streets, their drivers honking at each other when they felt they'd been wronged while aircraft roared overhead. Yachts and freighters filled the waterways, passing below the metal and masonry arches of numerous bridges and out among Earth's oceans. Even their aircraft carrier, which she had no doubt was here for no other reason than for them to view, looked somewhat like the ones that still sailed the oceans of Galar, a relic of the pre-unification era. As their guide led them from the torch of this monument, Reya took one last glance at the city beyond.

She hoped that Earth could unite before this beautiful sight was marred by war.

* * *

"Thank god," sighed Jacob as he settled into the passenger seat of his daughter's Ferrari. "I never thought I'd be able to get away from that nightmare."

"You never were any good at diplomacy dad," replied Sam with a grin. She still remembered incidents during her childhood where her father hadn't exactly been 'neighbourly'.

"Yeah well you may be right there kiddo. Still any time away from the Tok'ra is a blessing. The last few months haven't been easy."

"So our sources tell us." At the surprised look that crossed his face she grinned. "What, you think a Tok'ra can't be bought off by the CIA? I never thought of you as naïve dad."

"I guess so," he muttered. "Well what has he or she told you?"

She hesitated for a moment. Technically she was talking to a foreign dignitary and sharing intelligence wasn't exactly kosher. "Well…"

Jacob bowed his head before the resonance of Selmak spoke, "Do not worry Colonel Carter. To quote something your father once heard, 'If I told anyone would they believe me?'"

"I suppose so," she sighed. "We've heard that there's a bit of instability forming among the High Council."

"An understatement," replied the symbiote before taking a deep breath. "The Tok'ra have been focused on the destruction of the Goa'uld Empire for so long that we've never really thought of what would happen next. More so, we've always assumed that we would be the ones responsible for its collapse. Earth's rise to power has shaken our culture to its very foundations."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that," replied Sam, accelerating along the South Street Viaduct.

"Me neither kiddo," said her father. "Off the record I think we could be looking at a major split in Tok'ra society. And that scares me."

"I've never seen you scared of anything."

"I'm not worried about the Tok'ra. They're survivors and given our limited population, I doubt they'd be willing to kill each other. What worries me is what they may do to Earth."

"What do you mean?"

"Recently I've been cut out of the loop Sam," replied the old general. "I walk into a room and people stop their conversations or switch to another topic. The few sources I have left within the council have similarly been ostracized. Something major is happening and I fear for Earth."

"How do you know they're planning something against us?"

"Why else would they exclude me? If it was just a strike to further weaken the Goa'uld then they would have no reason to keep me at arm's length. The only reason they would keep me away is if it had something to do with Earth, something I wouldn't like."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. An attack would be out of the question. The Tok'ra don't even have a company's worth of combat trained troops. Whatever they're doing, it will follow Tok'ra form to a tee. Infiltration, sabotage, assassination maybe. It's all they know."

Sam didn't like what she was hearing. At best they'd heard about the developing split in Tok'ra society. If they were actually thinking of turning on their allies than this was a much bigger problem than she or anyone else had imagined.

"Thanks for telling me dad. This could save a lot of lives."

"I've come to realize that in my old age saving, not taking, a life is what's important," said the old warrior. "I've seen enough bloodshed."

"And the Tok'ra?"

"They'll do what they're gonna to do. Nothing I say has any impact on them anymore. For better or worse they've committed to their course, whatever it is. The best I can do is keep them from ploughing anyone over."

As they accelerated towards Mark's house in silence, Jacob and Selmak shared the same thought. 'Please don't let me be wrong.'

* * *

Of all the experiences in her life, little had made Shepard as uncomfortable as a formal dinner in the US Capitol. Dressed in her Systems Alliance Navy class A uniform she couldn't help but stand out. The deep blue fabric with gold trimming, replete with service ribbons, medals, her gold wings and the rather prominent N7 badge was certainly an attention getter. Everyone knew who she was and getting lost in the crowd wasn't exactly easy given the glowing red scars that covered her face. That she was a fairly attractive woman didn't help her cause either.

Fortunately the rest of her team was deflecting some of the attention lest she be swamped by the various dignitaries, diplomats, politicians and other curious onlookers. Stopping off at a side table and picking up a glass of champagne, she took the opportunity to observe the crowd. There were three groups that stood out in stark contrast to the others.

First were the Jaffa; dressed in their archaic chainmail armour. They seemed like, to quote her grandmother, 'cats in a room full of rocking chairs'. Clearly none of them had ever been to something even remotely like a formal dinner and their inexperience showed.

The second group were the Tok'ra. They stood out not for their inexperience but rather the fact that they couldn't seem to stop squabbling. The biggest arguments seemed to be between Jacob Carter and Thoran, mostly initiated by the latter. The general had surprised the room by showing up in his Air Force uniform rather than his Tok'ra robes. Personally Jade, having dealt with the Tok'ra in the past, thought it was just the kind of snub that would drive them crazy. Good on him.

Finally there was her crew. As the only 'real' aliens in the room, aside from Miles Hagan, they were receiving plenty of attention. Some like Mordin and Garrus were handling it easily, their pasts as a respected academic and high ranking police officer respectively having furnished them with plenty of experience in handling the public. Others like Thane and Tali were less adept, neither having lived a life that leant itself to public interactions on this kind of scale if at all. Shepard had wisely left Grunt and Jack back on the Normandy with Jacob keeping an eye on them.

"So, are you enjoying yourself Commander?"

Jade turned to see the Russian President and the British Prime Minister behind her with their own glasses of bubbly.

"To be honest I'm more comfortable taking on a company of mercenaries than making small talk at a formal function."

President Medanev just laughed at that, "Me as well. I came up through the Red Army so I can certainly understand your discomfort."

"As for myself I quite enjoy these events," commented Prime Minister Blair.

"Yes but you are British," parlayed the Russian. "You and your comrades love the spotlight."

The Brit just shrugged then grinned. "A legacy of the Empire I'm afraid. So Commander, I haven't had much of a chance to speak with you. I'd like to express my sincere gratitude on behalf of Her Majesty and the British People for all that you've done for us."

"Myself as well, especially considering your affiliations," added Medanev.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," replied the Spectre. "What affiliations?"

"You are an American are you not?" replied the president.

"Ah, I see what you mean," said the Normandy's commander. "I sometimes forget that for you the Cold War was practically yesterday whereas for me it's ancient history."

"I didn't mean to offend," placated the Russian as he tried to walk back his comment. Chyort this diplomacy wasn't his vocation.

"No offense taken Mister President. I suppose that the concept of nationalism has a different meaning for me. In my time most humans just consider themselves as being a part of the Alliance or not and the other powers are the Turians and Asari and the like."

"You mean there are human nations in your reality outside of your Systems Alliance?" asked Blair with a look of surprise.

"The future isn't exactly the kind of utopia that Gene Roddenberry predicted," began Shepard with a sigh. Damn but she wished it was. "Even all of Earth isn't what one would call 'united'." At her companion's gestures, she continued, "For places like America or Europe or Russia the future is pretty good. Those parts of the world are exactly what you would expect: clean, safe and swimming in high technology that makes your life easy and carefree. But for places like the Middle East or Africa things aren't so rosy."

"I remember a story one of my crew told me, Zaeed Massani. He was a mercenary born in Rome way back before the First Contact War. He told me about a mission back in, oh sometime in the early 2170s I think. He and his squad were hired to deal with a major public relations disaster for Eldfell-Ashland Energy in Ghana. One of their reactors had suffered a mechanical breakdown and irradiated a few city blocks. Now you have to understand that most of the Ivory Coast in my time isn't much more advanced than the United States is today and the level of poverty is pretty extreme. Places like that are slums where people work for next to nothing to provide for their families and the Systems Alliance throws billions of credits every year into the region in relief aid. Doesn't make a damned bit of difference given how corrupt their governments are though…"

"Why doesn't the alliance do anything about it?" asked the prime minister.

"'The Systems Alliance is a supranational government that represents humanity to the galaxy'. Or that's what the official reasoning is. Publically the alliance isn't supposed to interfere with the internal matters of its member states. In reality they don't have the resources or the balls to deal with the problem. Between the Batarians, the Citadel and protecting our colonies in the Traverse and the Terminus, well the Alliance military is always stretched thin. We don't have the resources for the kind of peacekeeping operation it would take to clean up the whole world. So the problem just festers," concluded Shepard in disgust. As an N7 she'd been part of her fair share of covert operations in places like Ghana and the Sudan. A band aid on a haemorrhaging wound; still better than letting it bleed openly but not by much.

"So I take it that this is your way of subtly encouraging us not to make the same mistakes that your world did," commented Blair with a grim smile.

"There's an old saying gentlemen," said Shepard. "Those who don't know history…"

"…are destined to repeat it," finished Medanev. "Edmund Burke if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes mister president. But there's another part to that saying that most people don't know. 'Those who fail to learn history correctly, why there are simply doomed.' Good evening gentlemen," finished humanity's first Spectre as she walked away, leaving the two men to contemplate her words.

* * *

_USS Nautilus_

_In Hyperspace en-route to the Citadel_

_ETA 15 Minutes_

Daniel Jackson smiled at the looks of wonderment that covered the faces of the Langarans and Galarans. For them this trip was their first exposure to the wonders of space travel and hyperspace. He remembered seeing a similar look on Sam's face during their renegade mission to stop Apophis years earlier. It had been an eye opening experience to say the least.

The various delegations were currently residing in the Nautilus' observation lounge. The space, usually utilized as a place for off-duty officers to relax, was unique. This room was host to the only 'real' windows to be found on the nine hundred meter warship; the rest being simulated through holographic projections. In his opinion the ship's designers had taken the design of this room in a slightly ridiculous direction. The whole room was practically open to space, a partial dome that merged into the hull. During combat a series of shutters would close over the room in a fashion that resembled the hanger doors of the original Starship Enterprise.

He'd asked one of the designers about the idea and had quickly regretted it. Apparently the man in question had been a fan of a show called 'Farscape' and had copied the terrace from the show's principle ship Moya. It represented a vulnerability that ordinarily wouldn't have been allowed on the utilitarian vessels America's armed forces favoured. 'Yet another sign of the changing times,' thought the archaeologist with a grin. The view was certainly spectacular.

From the slight vibrations that passed through the deck plating, Daniel could tell they were decelerating. This was confirmed a moment later as the blue-green tunnel outside flashed to white, replaced by the eerie lavender clouds of the Serpent Nebula. Back in Commander Shepard's universe there had been some speculation that the nebula was actually produced by the Citadel itself; the result of waste matter ejected over millions of years of self-repair. Caretaker, this Citadel's AI had corrected this misconception. The nebula was in fact far older and served as both the station's primary method of defence and concealment as well as its fuel source, the helium-3 rich gasses providing the reaction mass for the five massive fusion reactors housed in the presidium end of each ward.

As the ship cleared the denser portions of the cloud the delegates let out individual gasps. Before them floated perhaps the single largest spaceborne structure in the galaxy. Far from the battered and desolate hulk the Normandy had discovered months earlier, the Citadel had blossomed like the flower it resembled. The wards, once pockmarked with damage from the assault by the indoctrinated followers of the Reapers and the subsequent eons neglect were now lit with millions of lights. Each of the massive, block-like arms was more than twice the length and width of Manhattan Island. Already almost five hundred thousand colonists had emigrated from Earth to the station and soon it would become as its counterpart, a city of millions and a jumping off point for further colonization efforts.

Above and slightly to the side of the station floated another awe inspiring sight, the sleek reflective form of an Asgard O'Neill Class Battlecruiser. In fact it was the penultimate O'Neill II herself, Supreme Commander Thor's flagship. For the Jaffa delegation its form sent chills up their spines. To them the Asgard had a mythic reputation; the race that even their mighty gods feared. While these Jaffa had cast off their deities, the fear of the diminutive grey aliens that had been drilled into them from childhood refused to leave so easily as their false religion.

To either side of the Nautilus flew the SSV Normandy and USS Ptolemaeus, each a twin of the other. Both ships were impressive enough, more than a match for even the most powerful Ha'tak mothership. Above and slightly ahead flew the smaller USS Tyco, the frigate an update of the pioneering SR-1 design. All of what the delegates were seeing was an elaborate show of course. For the Jaffa it was a reminder of just whom they were dealing with, for the Tok'ra a warning to mind their behaviour and to the independent worlds an advertisement of what they could gain through an alliance with Earth.

Daniel took all this in with a barely concealed smirk and a shake of his head. 'Let the games begin.'

* * *

As President Hayes took his seat around the meeting table he observed his counterparts from the other worlds. Some were hopeful, some uncomfortable, some belligerent. Fortunately this meeting wasn't strictly 'diplomatic' so the mindless repetition that marked most such events on Earth would be absent, much to his relief.

To his left sat Colonel Carter and Doctor Jackson, to his right Commander Shepard. The conference table was in the shape of a pentagon. The sides to his right were occupied by the Jaffa and the 'independent' worlds of Langara, Galar and Hebridan. To his left were the Tok'ra and Asgard. The air was charged with tension thick enough to cut with a knife and the meeting hadn't even begun.

Hayes smiled. This would be fun.

"That you all for agreeing to this summit. The purpose of this initial meeting will focus on the one subject that each and every one of our respective peoples agrees is the most pressing: the war with the Goa'uld Empire. It will be followed by smaller meetings between the individual parties focussing on topics ranging from military matters to trade, science and technology, humanitarian relief and cultural exchange. So without further ado, let's get to it. Does anyone with to speak first regarding the war?"

"I will go first," began Garshaw. "I believe I speak for most of the parties here when I request an explanation of Earth's treaty with the System Lords. From our perspective, this seems to be a massive betrayal."

"Agreed," commented Gerak with a deep frown. Many of the other delegates nodded their agreement with the exception of the Asgard and Jonas Quinn.

"If you would allow me sir," began Daniel, receiving a nod from his commander in chief. "The treaty with the System Lords is not and never was meant to last for more than a few years. We agreed to it because, to be frank, we needed it. At the time we signed it, we were still recovering from Anubis' attack and our resources were stretched to the breaking point. We needed the relief that the treaty offered us to regroup, rebuilt and expand our military forces as well as to deal with the problems disclosure of the Stargate caused on our world."

"And soon you will betray them?" asked M'zel hopefully.

"We won't need to," replied Hayes with a grin. "They'll betray us. It's in their nature. Once their fear of us outweighs their fear of Ba'al, they'll turn on us like a pack of rabid weasels. But by that time our military, especially in space will be powerful enough to engage them on even terms. We won't, and I cannot emphasize this point enough, be the first party to break the agreement we have with the System Lords, at least not overtly. It would damage Earth's credibility in future negotiations and the political fallout back home would be damaging to those of us charged with running our governments. We keep our word ladies and gentlemen, regardless of who we've given it to."

"You said overtly," asked Miles Hagan with a grin. "I take it you haven't exactly been on the level in your dealing with the System Lords."

"No we have not," replied Shepard as the military representative. "We haven't attacked any of the System Lords directly but there are other ways. By providing aid and intelligence to the Jaffa Rebellion and occasionally to Ba'al himself, we've been able to direct the war as we hoped, slowly destroying both sides." Gerak looked offended by that last statement but she continued. "In addition we've hired, well let's say 'outside parties' to attack the System Lords."

"You refer to the Lucian Cartel," commented Thoran. "They are not to be trusted," he continued, ignoring the fact that the Tok'ra frequently did business with the criminal organization.

"Among others," replied the Spectre. "We have certain 'arrangements' with several of their factions, most notably the Matar sect. In exchange for payments of high grade naquadah, weapons and other luxury goods that are hard to procure in Goa'uld space, they focus their raids on the System Lords and agree not to engage in slave trading. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement that has worked out well for us."

"And I assume they also provide you intelligence on other factions within the Cartel," added Garshaw knowingly. "I wasn't aware your intelligence networks were so developed."

"We may be relative newcomers on the galactic scene but we know how things work," replied Hayes coolly. "In many ways the current situation resembles Earth during the second half of the twentieth century."

"What actions have you been taking against Ba'al," asked Bra'tac curiously. Though he had a close personal relationship with the SGC, he was as in the dark as the rest of the Rebellion as to the actions of the Tau'ri. In was this lack of information that had turned many of his brothers slowly against the first world; the perception that they were doing nothing.

"We've been focusing on damaging Ba'al's infrastructure," began Shepard. "This boils down to three areas of focus: resources, manufacturing and research and development. In regards to the first, we've been staging hit and run attacks on Ba'al shipping both through the Stargate and against his cargo vessels. The proper term is commerce raiding. We've managed to destroy or capture a significant amount of resources over the past few months. Intelligence estimates suggest that because of our actions, Ba'al's resourcing is currently operating at less than thirty percent normal efficiency, leading to shortages specifically in naquadah, trinium, cobalt, iridium and copper. This directly impacts his ability to both manufacture new weaponry and vessels as well as repair damage to existing assets. We've also stepped up efforts to encourage slave revolts and have succeeded on more than three dozen worlds, helped along by the fact that Ba'al's armies are increasingly depleted and needed in the war against the System Lords."

That surprised the assembled delegates, the Jaffa especially. Bra'tac had noticed the increasing equipment shortages among Ba'al's forces but had assumed it was simple supply chain problems, not a targeted offensive against Ba'al's infrastructure. "I assume such actions are also responsible for loss of manufacturing efficiency as well?" the old Jaffa continued.

"Correct," replied the commander with a grin. "Without raw materials Ba'al can't build ships and staff weapons and his factories lay idle. We've also launched a series of covert attacks against his factories, destroying several and inciting further revolts on several key industrial worlds. With the loss of Erebus, Ba'al's manufacturing base was heavily reduced. Now we're just rubbing salt in his wounds."

"And his research infrastructure?" asked Jonas with a knowing smile. "I assume you've made some progress?"

"Indeed," commented Carter. "We've eliminated or captured over twenty key scientists that were working for Ba'al. Unfortunately he's since moved most of his R&D either to Dakara or Tartarus, both of which are beyond our reach for the moment. Still we've managed to cripple his efforts to develop new tech for the foreseeable future; not that it makes a real difference as he already had a leg up on the rest of the Goa'uld thanks to Anubis."

"An interesting strategy," commented Garshaw in a respectful tone, "but despite your efforts, Ba'al will still most likely prevail against the remaining System Lords without direct military intervention."

"You are of course correct," replied Hayes with a nod. "Ba'al still possesses superior technology and several other key advantages over his enemies, most notably the Kull Warriors. Which is why we're readying Operation Hades. Commander if you will," gestured the president.

"Yes sir," replied the former Spectre. "Operation Hades, which I will be leading, is a special forces assault with the goal of capturing Tartarus and its orbital defences intact. Without the planet Ba'al will lose access to the Kull production lines and all remaining Kull off-world will cease to function within an estimated one month due to lack of proper maintenance, again something only possible on Tartarus."

That surprised the room. Tartarus, formerly the homeworld of Anubis, was a fortress of considerable power.

"How do you plan to get past the defences?" asked Rak'nor.

"While the facility possesses a sophisticated sensor array, at least by Goa'uld standards, we are confident that it will not be able to penetrate our new cloaking technology," replied Shepard with a grin. "I would like to thank the Asgard for their help in that arena."

That earned her a nod from Penegal. "We are most honoured to help the people of Earth," replied the Asgard politician. "Thus far our relationship with Earth has proven quite fruitful," he continued, noting with satisfaction the uncomfortable looks on the faces of the Jaffa and Tok'ra delegations. He was here to support his allies on Earth, not those his government had been at war with for generations. While the Asgard desired peace above all else, they were a practical species. It was for that reason they had sponsored Earth; as a check against the expansion of the Goa'uld Empire that they no longer had the resources to contain. With the empire falling apart he was equally worried about what would happen if the Jaffa were left unchecked as well.

"What do you plan to do with the world after you capture it, assuming you are successful?" asked Thoran in a slightly sarcastic tone.

"We won't be producing any more Kull," replied Hayes bluntly. "In fact we intend to dismantle the production lines and we welcome inspection teams from any of the powers represented here to oversee the process. Tartarus is to become our first Colonia, or military colony. We're going to use it as a major shipyard, research facility and fleet base once we've established ourselves there. It will also serve as a jumping off point for colonization into the Nemean Abyss of which it borders. The Abyss is one of three regions we intend to claim for colonial ventures after the war along with the Attican Traverse to the galactic north of Goa'uld Territory and of course the Local Cluster in which Earth resides."

That was disturbing to Gerak. If what the Tau'ri leader was saying was true, the humans of the first world would control territory to the north, east and south of what would surely become Jaffa space. And to the west was only the galactic core. "You intend to surround us!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

"We are simply laying claim to unclaimed territory," replied Daniel neutrally. "The combined size of the Nemean Abyss, Attican Traverse and Local Cluster is only equal to one tenth of Goa'uld controlled space. Furthermore our preliminary surveys indicate that there are a surprisingly small number of habitable worlds or Stargates within both the Traverse and the Abyss. What they are rich in is resources. Why wouldn't we lay claim to them?"

"The Asgard support Earth's claims to these regions," said Penegal, throwing the Asgard's considerable weight squarely behind the first world. He of course had been briefed on exactly why the humans wanted the three regions.

"As does Langara," added Jonas.

"And Hebridan, with conditions of course," added Hagan with a grin. Business was business.

"And Galar," said Varrick, speaking for the first time during the meeting.

The show of solidarity left Gerak hanging. Looking to his brothers for support he received a cold look from Rak'nor and a frown from Bra'tac. Knowing when he was out-muscled, he sat back down with a frown.

"When will this operation take place?" asked Jacob, acting as a representative of the Tok'ra.

"For security reasons we cannot reveal this information," replied Shepard, earning a knowing nod from the former Air Force general. "All I can say is that it will be soon."

"I understand," replied the general. "The need to maintain OpSec is paramount in this sort of thing."

"I for one would feel better if we could oversee this operation," said Garshaw, "perhaps even participate."

Shepard saw right through that one. The Tok'ra leader wanted to keep an eye on what her teams discovered as they took the planet. Tartarus had been the centre of Anubis' research efforts as well. Deciding to be diplomatic she replied, "I appreciate your offer. However this will be a high risk mission. We're literally going into the heart of the Kull Warriors den, as it were. Only our best people will be coming along, armed with the latest weaponry and wearing our most advanced armour," she reasoned. The last thing she needed was to have to babysit some Tok'ra spy and she sure as hell wasn't letting one of them get their hands on the latest version of the Tristan powered combat hard-suit. Still there was no harm in throwing the Tok'ra a bone. Looking to Hayes she received a brief nod. "However I am willing to allow one representative of each of the powers here to observe the mission from the Normandy. While they will not be participating in the operation itself, they will be able to monitor it via helmet cameras and radios."

Garshaw was surprised she was even getting that much. Their relationship with the Tau'ri wasn't especially cordial anymore and this was more of an olive branch then she'd expected to come out of this summit. "That will be more than sufficient," she replied gracefully, noting the look of distaste on Thoran's face at that comment. She was beginning to see why Jacob disliked him so much.

"I believe it is time for a recess," announced Hayes. "If we could reconvene in an hour…," he suggested, receiving nods from each delegation.

As the various members filed out, Shepard spared a look, noting Gerak nodding to Thoran. That would bear watching.


End file.
